School Ties
by Anna Rousseau
Summary: A series of crossovers where the ER staff find themselves meeting faces from the past that are familiar to us. *Chp 5 -ER/Moulin Rouge UP - death, dancing, singing and booze - read on :o)*
1. The Consquences of Klutziness

Title: 'The Consequences Of Klutziness'  
Authors: Anna Rousseau and Carrie Verkman  
Fandoms: ER/The West Wing  
Genre: Humour/General  
Rating: U  
Category: WW (SS/CJC/JL/DM) ER (JC/AL/KW/DM)  
Spoilers: WW (ITSOTG & Other Minor) ER (S6)  
Set: WW (S2) ER (S7)  
Archive/Feedback: Just tell us where/ e-mail Anna annadelamico@yahoo.co.uk or Carrie carebear1025@juno.com   
Summary: CJ, Josh and Sam have to pay a visit to the Emergency Room during a visit to Chicago.  
  
Disclaimer: Do we *look* like we own two extremely successful TV series?  
  
Notes: This is the first collaboration fic that we have done together, so I hope both ER and West Wing readers will like it. Bear in mind this is a comedy, and we don't suspect that Mr Wells would ever get Mr Sorkin and Mr Schlamme to agree to a crossover in the 'real' world, so take the characterisation with a pinch of salt.  
  
'THE CONSEQUENCES OF KLUTZINESS'  
================================  
  
"How the hell did you manage that, Sam?" Josh Lyman demanded, raking his fingers through his unruly hair, his tone raised in annoyance. "We've got a very important function with probably the most influential person in the whole of Illinois and you screw it up with-"  
  
CJ Cregg pushed the doors to County General's Emergency Room open and hushed Josh by raising her index finger, "Don't make a big deal about it, Josh. I hardly think that the President of the Federal *Cheese* Commission is going to miss us."  
  
"Why on Earth would he be the most influential person in this state...that's absurd," Sam Seaborn added, pressing a piece of gauze to his head which was oozing blood pretty quickly. "Wisconsin, maybe. Illinois, not at all...maybe if he was the President of the Federal Pizza Commission, or the Federal Deep Dish Pizza Commission even-"  
  
"Keep applying that pressure," CJ interjected as she looked for the reception desk.  
  
Sam nodded, feeling slightly light-headed though not faltering in his search for suitable Commissions that may effect polling numbers in Illinois, "The Federal El Train Commission maybe? Hey, this Cheese Commission thing fits in with Leo's Big Block of Cheese idea, do you think-"  
  
"Sam?"  
  
"Yes, Josh," Sam replied, wincing as a sharp pain shot across his forehead.  
  
"Shut up." Josh looked over at his friend, a trickle of blood running down Sam's temple. Josh turned a shade of green, "Oh God, you're bleeding."  
  
Sam looked at the Deputy Chief of Staff in disbelief as CJ rang the bell on the counter, "Well thank you Josh, that was something I wasn't aware of." Sam took the piece of gauze from his head and looked at it, "Wow, I am bleeding. A lot, may I add."  
  
Josh turned away quickly, "Oh God, don't Sam, put it back on."  
  
"Afraid of a little blood, are we?" Sam asked, teasing his friend despite the agony he was in by lifting the bloody material without warning off his head every so often as they waited for the receptionist.  
  
"Put the gauze back on the cut, and nobody gets hurt," Josh threatened bending over and taking in deep breaths.  
  
A heavily made-up brunette popped up from behind the desk, chewing on a piece of gum, "What can I do for you?"  
  
CJ smiled breezily and indicated towards Sam, "I'm CJ Cregg, this is my colleague Sam Seaborn. He's got a pretty nasty cut on his head, it might need stitches."  
  
"If you'd wait in chairs-"  
  
There was a groan and a thud. CJ, the receptionist and Sam turned to see Josh, slumped on the floor, his skin a sickly green.  
  
CJ raised an eyebrow, pointing at Sam, "What'cha do, Samuel?"  
  
Sam looked at her innocently, "How was I supposed to know he wasn't man enough for a little blood?"  
  
CJ looked at her colleagues. One was bleeding profusely and the other was passed out on the floor, face as green as grass. In a weird way she felt like a mother with two babies.   
  
The receptionist was not amused by Josh who was now clutching his stomach. She snapped and popped her gum and handed CJ a chart. "Fill this out and wait in chairs please."   
  
Sam once again looked at his soaked gauze pad. He felt more light-headed than before. "Waiting in chairs won't make my head stop oozing blood."   
  
CJ manoeuvred Sam to a chair and began to fill out a chart for him. Sam looked over to Josh who had pulled himself together and was holding onto the admit desk for support. "What are going to do about Josh?" Sam asked.   
  
"Oh, I think he'll be fine. He's just scared of a little blood. Now let's worry about you," CJ said.   
  
"Yes Mommy." Sam looked around the ER. "This place is a dump. There're hobos everywhere, drunks and addicts. I have never seen a hospital so run down."   
  
"That's what you get for coming to a County hospital," said Dr. John Carter. "Randi said there was a head laceration and a drunk on the floor, and I'm guessing it's you two."   
  
"I am not drunk!" Josh shouted. "If it wasn't for this klutz here with a bleeding head, we wouldn't be in this mess!" Josh pointed at Sam. CJ looked amused.   
  
The doctor stuck his hand out amiably, "Dr. John Carter."  
  
CJ nodded and gave him a firm and official handshake, "CJ Cregg, this is Sam Seaborn...that green one over there is Josh Lyman. And believe me, you'd know if *he* were drunk."  
  
"You look familiar," Dr. Carter said to CJ who just about matched the tall doctor's height, a curious look on his face. "You on TV?  
  
Sam grinned, they got this a lot when they were out with CJ. And they were constantly being accosted by young girls taken with Josh's 'sheer genius'. "She's the White House Press Secretary."  
  
"Oh," Dr Carter smiled as he moved over to where Sam was sitting, looking more and more faint by the moment. "Ah," he peered at the cut after snapping on a fresh pair of latex gloves, "that's a pretty deep scalp lac, you're gonna need a few stitches there. If you'd come this way."  
  
CJ steadied Sam as he stood up, swaying a little, "Are you going to wait here, Josh?"  
  
Josh was trying his best to keep his eyes averted from the blood trickling from Sam's head by pretending to take a deep interest in the slightly mouldy ceiling tiles of the admit area. When CJ started talking to him, Josh was prepared to make some excuse about phoning in to check with Leo McGarry. But as he was about to reply when a gurney rushed past, laden with young man whose body was riddled with gunshot wounds, paramedics and doctors working desperately to save his life.  
  
"CJ, wait," Josh whispered moving quickly to where Sam and CJ were heading with Dr. Carter.  
  
Sam looked over at Josh whose face had at first pinked up then blanched, he then glanced at the victim being pushed rapidly into a trauma room. Turning back to his friend, Sam beckoned him over, "Josh, it's OK...come here."  
  
CJ was just as concerned as Sam and touched Josh's elbow as Dr. Carter lead them into a quiet and deserted exam room, "Josh?"  
  
"Is he OK," Dr. Carter asked, staring at Josh who sat down quietly on one of the gurneys. A wave of realisation crossed his face, his tone became slightly hushed, "You're Joshua Lyman, President Bartlet's Deputy Chief of Staff, is that right?"  
  
Josh nodded, smiling wryly and bitterly at the same time, "Yeah, the one from the news, the one who got shot."  
  
"Josh," Sam pleaded. "He was only-"  
  
He smiled apologetically at the doctor, "Guess I'm a bit sick of hospitals, y'know after spending weeks on end cooped up in one...but when I got out-"  
  
CJ rolled her eyes, "Please, don't subject the poor doctor to your 'Outdoorsman' lecture," she grinned at Dr Carter who was organising instruments which Sam was eyeing cautiously. "He does this every time, believe me, he's not an outdoorsman."  
  
The young doctor smiled knowingly at Josh; CJ knew that Dr. Carter probably saw cases like Josh's every day. If they'd been in Chicago and not Rosslyn, they might have even ended up in this emergency room. But the look the trauma resident gave Josh was far more familiar. CJ turned back to the verbal rally the two deputies were engaged in.  
  
"I am such an outdoorsman, CJ," Josh protested, getting back into his usual infantile argumentative character. "If I was anymore of an outdoorsman I'd be Davy Crockett."  
  
Sam smirked at Josh, "Well, 'Davey' why don't you save us all the pain of hearing about the outdoors and actually go there."  
  
"I like it better here," Josh decided, swinging his legs absentmindedly as Dr Carter irrigated the wound.  
  
"How did you do this?"  
  
Sam cocked his head to the side as the doctor inspected the wound before raising a syringe to Sam's scalp. He looked at the needle apprehensively and swallowed, tugging on his loosely knotted tie, "I came by CJ's room and she was putting in her contacts and she lost one, it bounced onto the floor-"  
  
"Right, blame it on the woman," CJ sighed good-naturedly.  
  
Sam gave her a look and continued, "We were looking for it on the carpet of CJ's hotel room and I found it, told her, we both looked up at the same time, we bumped heads pretty forcefully, I fell over and backwards after I lost my balance and there was this damned ugly piece of mock-Baroque furniture and I hit my head on this little twiddly bit, that had no right to be there, it didn't serve any purpose, it was just there for ornamentation, even then it was a vile piece of carpentry-"  
  
"That's enough detail," Dr. Carter smiled as he drove the syringe forwards. "You might feel a little pinch, Mr. Seaborn."  
  
"All that and in one sentence," Josh commented looking impressed. "And one breath."  
  
Sam winced as Dr. Carter started to suture, "Toby would be appalled at my grammar." He addressed the doctor, "I didn't mean to be disrespectful about your hospital earlier, sorry."  
  
Dr Carter shrugged, "No, no...County General is a bit of a slum."  
  
CJ could see Sam's eyes start to twinkle, "Still, those who can't afford healthcare should go to hospitals of a higher standard, environment wise. I can tell that the staff here are grossly overworked, underpaid and don't receive the respect they're due. We should be doing more for County hospitals like-"  
  
Josh sighed and folded his arms, "And so begins the next chapter in Samuel Seaborn's epic life's crusade to ensure a better life for every American. First making hookers see the error of their ways, then mandatory minimums and education, now healthcare, here we come."  
  
"Don't mock," Sam retorted, his attempt at menace not coming through as he had hoped. "Or I'll make you come along when I have my stitches out."  
  
"Oooh, is that a promise or a threat?" Josh taunted. He stood up from the gurney but CJ pushed him back down.   
  
"That's enough. Poor Dr. Carter must be sick of your arguing by now. Act your age!" CJ demanded.   
  
Dr. Carter just kept suturing Sam's head. Abby Lockhart came into bring him some gauze pads.   
  
"Here you go Dr. Carter. Wait a minute, are you-"  
  
CJ smiled, "Yes. CJ Cregg. White House Press Secretary. This is Sam Seaborn and Josh Lyman. And you are?"   
  
"Oh, Abby Lockhart. I'm just a nurse," Abby ran a hand through her messy hair. "Just a nurse with no medical school money, an ex-husband violating our divorce agreement, and a Croatian boyfriend who is jealous and whines about his dead family all the time. And here I am stuck in the middle of it all!" Abby left the exam room in a stressed-out fury. Dr. Carter watched her go.   
  
"She's feisty," said Sam, an uncontrollable giddy smile taking over his face. "Cute and feisty."   
  
"Yeah that's Abby for you," Dr. Carter said.   
  
"I think he likes Abby," said Josh, who was playing with a tongue depressor.   
  
"Josh!" CJ exclaimed.   
  
"John and Abby sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G!" Josh sang.   
  
"Mr. Lyman do we need to restrain you?" Dr. Carter asked, his cheeks glowing red. He was almost done suturing when Sam's cell phone rang.   
  
"Oh I have to get that," Sam reached in his coat pocket and pulled out a tiny phone.   
  
"Mr. Seaborn, hold still," Dr. Carter said impatiently.   
  
"Sorry," Sam apologised as the doctor tied another knot in the suture he was completing. He then turned his attention to the caller on the other end of the line, "Sam Seaborn."  
  
"You're not supposed to use those things in here," Dr. Carter said, gesticulating to the cell phone whilst still stitching, a feat in itself.  
  
Sam nodded and held his finger up, "One sec."  
  
Josh leant over and examined Dr. Carter's actions, "Uh, how do you do that thing."  
  
"That thing?" Dr. Carter replied.  
  
"Clear as mud always, Joshua," CJ snorted as she tried to not look like she was eavesdropping on Sam's conservation.  
  
Josh ignored her and pointed at a stitch on Sam's head, "There, the little one-handed knot thingy-"  
  
Sam glared at Josh and clapped a hand over the mouthpiece, "I don't mind you staring at my head, but could you be a bit quieter please?"  
  
Luckily Sam was too engrossed with what his caller was saying to pay any attention to the faces that Josh was pulling behind his back.  
  
Dr. Carter watched the brotherly antics with amusement as he finished his last stitch. Pulling off the latex gloves, he tossed them into a sterile waste container with the precision of an NBA superstar, "I could tell you the secrets of my one-handed knots, but then I'd have to kill you."  
  
Josh pursed his lips and nodded, rocking back on his heels, "D'ya know I could have you committed for threatening a federal employee in such a way?"  
  
"Bring it on," Dr. Carter grinned. "I've had worst threats, believe me."  
  
Sam flipped up his phone and slipped it into his pocket, "That was Donna, she wanted to see how we were doing."  
  
Josh looked stunned, "Donna phoned?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"To talk to you?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"But she's my assistant."  
  
"Ten out of ten for stating the obvious, Josh." CJ rolled her eyes.  
  
Sam stood up and gave Josh a curious glance, "By phoning me is she violating one of the Josh Lyman-Donna Moss restriction laws?"  
  
Josh pretended not to hear this and instead pressed on with the inquisition, "Donna didn't want to speak to me?"  
  
Dr. Carter cleared his throat to get the three White House employees to notice him, "Uh, you need to keep the stitches dry and come back to have them taken out in about six days."  
  
"Can I have my doctor back in Washington do it?" Sam checked as CJ inspected the careful stitches made at Sam's hairline.  
  
Dr. Carter nodded and handed Sam a leaflet, "There's some more information about caring for the the wound. If you have any queries either get in touch with us or your doctor in DC."  
  
Josh was about to open the door when a red-headed woman with a crutch barged in and threw a chart at Dr. Carter, "We're getting backed up, Carter, you don't have the time to stand around making idle chit-chat."  
  
"Kerry?" CJ asked in disbelief, edging closer to the other woman. "Kerry Weaver?"  
  
Dr. Weaver clapped a hand to her mouth, then she beamed at the Press Secretary, "Claudia! My God, I haven't seen you since graduation."  
  
"Look at you Kerry! You look great!" CJ said, not caring if her voice rose to a valley girl level. "You must have a man now!"   
  
"Uh, well, not exactly. But who cares. It's been way to long! Oh my God!" Dr. Weaver shouted.   
  
CJ wrapped Kerry in a hug, and both of them were squealing like pigs.   
  
Dr. Carter, Sam and Josh watched in amusement. "Oh my God, were you two like, totally best friends?" Josh asked.   
  
"Kerry and I graduated from the same high school," CJ explained. "We used to be on the Volleyball team."   
  
"Interesting. I didn't know you played Volleyball Dr. Weaver," said Dr. Carter. He was more interested in how Dr. Weaver, obviously handicapped, could play such a sport with a crutch. Unless she didn't have her crutch in high school. Dr. Carter wondered when he, and the other ER staff would find out, because no-one knew.   
  
"I didn't. Claud played and I was the equipment manager. And I served water to all the players. I had little trays with paper cups that had our school mascot on it and I had bottled water, spring water, tap water and...." Kerry noticed that no one was listening so she changed the subject. "Claudia what are you doing here?"   
  
"I'm here with my colleagues Sam Seaborn and Josh Lyman. Or better known as Tweedledum and Tweedledee. Tweedledum here, injured himself, so we brought him in to get sewn up," CJ explained.   
  
Sam nodded and shook Kerry's hand. CJ looked over to Josh who was dying to find out from Dr. Carter how to do that one-handed knot thingy.   
  
"Do you like, take your hand and turn it upside down and twist it? Or do you rotate your wrist and pull?" Josh asked, while moving his hands in weird positions.   
  
"No. I'm not going to tell you Mr. Lyman. I don't want you to go around stitching things that don't need stitching," said Dr. Carter.   
  
"Well I just want to know in case Sam hurts himself again," Josh playfully smacked the back of Sam's head.   
  
"Hey, that hurt!" Sam whined. "You're just mad about the whole Donna thing!"   
  
"She's my assistant!"   
  
CJ looked up at Sam and Josh, "Do I have to separate you? Honestly, this is stupid. I'm going to have a cup of coffee with Kerry and then I'll be back. Don't cause trouble."   
  
CJ and Dr. Weaver left the exam room talking, giggling and reminiscing about the good old days. Dr. Carter mumbled something about seeing another patient and before he left he said, "If you two are going to stay in here, please don't be loud. It bothers the other patients."   
  
Sam and Josh looked at each other. Josh spoke up, "Now what do we do?"   
  
"I don't know," Sam said, touching his head gently. "You want to hit up the cafeteria? I'm kinda hungry."   
  
"Hospital food?" Josh asked. "I don't know about that."   
  
"It'll be fine. They only give the bad food to the patients," Sam said pulling on his jacket. "Let's go."   
  
The two of them left the exam room and walked to the cafeteria. They did not see Donna Moss walking up to the admit desk. Donna rang the bell and the gum-chewing receptionist handed her a chart, "Fill this out and wait in chairs."   
  
"Oh no, I'm not a patient. I'm looking for Sam Seaborn," she said. "Is he still here?"   
  
"Check the board," the receptionist replied in a dismissive manner.   
  
Donna groaned at the receptionist's lack of politeness. She looked around for a moment, as if she was lost, looking for this magical board that was supposed to tell her where her colleagues were.   
  
"You look lost," said a young doctor wearing a blue scrub top.   
  
"I am. I'm looking for Sam Seaborn. Are you the doctor who treated him?" Donna asked.   
  
The young doctor shuffled over to the board and said, "No, that was Dr. Carter. All he had to do was suture your friend's head. I, Dr. Dave Malucci, prefer to do the more challenging stuff."   
  
"Such as?"   
  
"Oh well, I don't know. You wouldn't be interested in my amazing medical talents."   
  
"Actually, I would. Donna Moss is the name. Do go on."   
  
Dr. Malucci smiled, "Well first of all there's the ever exciting intubation. You're on a clock. If that tube isn't down the throat, the person is not breathing. You need to get that air flowing fast. And of course, you can't leave out thoracotomies and the thrilling internal cardiac massage. All this and more to save a life."   
  
"Tell me more," Donna demanded breathlessly.   
  
***  
  
"Oh God."   
  
Sam looked over at Josh who was clutching his stomach in agony as waited for the elevator after a quick snack in the hospitals less than appetising cafeteria.   
  
"Oh God!" Josh was now bent over double, his mouth set in a grimace. "I'm dying."  
  
His friend rolled his eyes and jabbed the call button once again, "No you're not."  
  
"Yes I am," Josh shot back, making wheezing noises. "I think I know how it feels to be dying, thank you very much, and that is what it feels like now."  
  
"I don't like the gallows humour, Josh," Sam said, turning the volume of his voice down as he suddenly noticed a few figures standing around in scrubs, watching the pair. "Don't make such a big deal, you probably wolfed down your three burgers too quickly."  
  
"Don't mention food!" Josh warned tilting his head up to face Sam who was looking around for a flight of stairs.  
  
"Come on, Josh." Sam indicated brightly to the stairs just opposite them.  
  
Josh groaned, "No...can't...walk."  
  
The Deputy Communications Director pulled on Josh's sleeve until he started to move, "You're making fuss about nothing. I told you that four servings of french fries and two milkshakes were enough for anyone. But no, you know best, as always."  
  
"It wasn't the fries that did it Sam. That second plate of Jell-O was the misjudgement," Josh concluded as he straightened up and followed in Sam's direction.  
  
Josh's face went as pale as his white dress shirt, he stopped dead on the stairs, prompting a nurse who was dashing down to surgery to nearly run into the back of the two men. "They gave me food poisoning."  
  
"Josh-"  
  
"I bet their kitchens are infested with things that scuttle about-"  
  
"Josh-"  
  
"Like salmonella-"  
  
"Josh," Sam looked at his friend. "Salmonella doesn't scuttle."  
  
Josh raised an eyebrow, "I meant cockroaches."  
  
"Right."  
  
There was a moment of silence as they rounded a landing then started down another stairway.  
  
"E-Coli!"  
  
"For the love of God, an aspirin and a sharp instrument," Sam said in clipped syllables through his teeth, putting a hand to his already throbbing head.  
  
Josh, however, was relentless in his persecution of hospital cafeteria hygiene.  
  
"BSE, they might be infecting people with BSE so they can get more patients and more money." Josh, who was thoroughly taken with this conspiracy theory, waved his hands around excitedly.  
  
"Josh-"  
  
"It's a plan, I tell you." Josh made a fist with one hand and pummelled it into his other palm, his stomach pain long forgotten, "They must be stopped."  
  
Sam took a short breath, "The only problem being that this is a County hospital and they wouldn't really profit from this grand scheme. So unless you develop your theory-"  
  
"I'm working on it," Josh promised as they arrived in the Emergency Room. "Hey, there's that nurse...Abby. She is cute."  
  
"Gonna work the Lyman charm?" Sam ventured, following his gaze. Abby Lockhart was talking to a tall man in a lab coat with dark brown hair, each strand of it liberally coated with hair gel.  
  
Josh pursed his lips and shook his head, "No. Enough adventure for one day. Anyway, from the look of that guy's hair, I would say that was the Croatian boyfriend she was talking about."  
  
"And that wouldn't be you believing Greasy-Haired-Balkan stereotypes, would it?" Sam smirked as they continued on to the admit desk.  
  
"Me? Never," Josh peered into the distance and glimpsed the back of what looked suspiciously like his assistant Donna Moss, listening with rapt attention to an olive-skinned doctor who had the sort of cocky arrogance that Josh detested. Only he was allowed to have that sort of cocky arrogance, it was a Josh Lyman characteristic that no-one should dare plagiarise, it was his monopoly.  
  
Josh strutted over to the desk with Sam in pursuit and tapped Donna on the shoulder. Donna held up a hand to halt whatever torrent of abuse Josh was going to throw at her.  
  
"...And then I slip it in, charge up the defibrillators and he's back to life, just like that," the doctor continued to talk and Josh cleared his throat hoping again to gain Donna's full attention.  
  
"Wow, Dr. Dave, that's *amazing*," Donna replied in awe. "Oh, hi Josh."  
  
Josh and Sam were taken aback by her dismissive tone. Josh the most so, aggravated mostly that Donna had found another Gomer or Dr 'Freeride' to add to her long list of possible suitors.   
  
Josh raised his eyebrows, "Oh so it's *Doctor* Dave. Well excuse me, Donnatella, *Mister* Sam and I are going to check on CJ and her trip down memory lane."  
  
Donna flicked a strand of hair from her face and gave her boss a smug smile, "My, my, someone's at their quippiest today, Josh."  
  
"Quppiest," Josh contemplated. "Is that even a word?"  
  
"No," Sam offered. He received a small glare from Josh and looked to the floor quickly. "That was a rhetorical question, wasn't it?"  
  
"I just remembered," Donna exclaimed, clapping her hand on Josh's arm. "You're late."  
  
"Is Leo mad?" Sam asked fearfully.  
  
"Well he was doing the thing where-"  
  
"His neck muscles tense slightly?" Josh finished with an air of apprehension.  
  
"Yeah, and Toby was looking for his balls." Donna heard a smirk being emitted from Dr. Malucci's mouth, "His stress balls, the ones he throws against Sam's wall."  
  
The doctor deadpanned, "Right, I didn't think-"  
  
Josh cut in abruptly, "I'm just gonna bring CJ back into the 21st century." He headed to the doctors' lounge where CJ's loud laughter was floating out of the open door.  
  
Donna raised her voice and called after Josh, "Air Force One leaves in an hour. Leo told me to come here and physically drag you three over to O'Hare, so make it snappy."  
  
Josh spun on his heel and glanced at his watch, "I thought we left at noon."  
  
"Yes, and it would be noon in an hour, hence me-"  
  
Looking at his watch again Josh groaned, "My watch does suck."  
  
Dr. Malucci grinned at Donna and Sam, "Air Force One. You guys are G-men, cool."  
  
For the first time, Donna was pulled out of her Dr. Dave-fixated trance. "G-women too!"  
  
"Right," Dr. Malucci kept grinning. "There are some totally hot chicks in the government too."  
  
"Chicks?" Donna scowled.  
  
Sam leant back on the desk. "Wow," he said under his breath, "and you thought Josh was egotistic."  
  
"Shut up Sam. I don't need to hear anymore attitude from men," said Donna. "I'll be in the car. I want all three of you outside in ten minutes!"   
  
Dr. Malucci stopped Donna as she was about to leave, "Leaving so soon, are we?"   
  
"Yes, I have to leave. But if I'm ever in Chicago again, I'll stop by and hear more about your angioplasties."   
  
Dr. Carter overheard what Donna said and assumed Dave told her that. "Dave, you've never done an angioplasty."   
  
"Shut up man," Dave mumbled.   
  
"Oh my!" Donna chuckled to herself and then said to Sam, "Ten minutes. No later."   
  
Sam nodded. He then shook Dr. Carter's hand and said, "Thank you Dr. Carter. And I'm sorry Josh was an idiot."   
  
"It's okay. And you're welcome. Be careful now," Dr. Carter and Sam turned to go into the lounge.   
  
Josh was there waiting impatiently for Kerry and CJ to say goodbye.   
  
"I'm going to miss you so much Claudia!" Kerry said. "You must call me if you are ever in Chicago again."   
  
"I will. You have my cell phone number, call me any time," CJ said.   
  
"Ready CJ?" Sam asked with a hint of urgency.   
  
"Yes, just let me grab my coat."   
  
"Donna has a car outside. Be there in five."   
  
"I will."   
  
Dr. Malucci entered the lounge just as Sam and Josh walked out. Josh gave Dave a dirty look for flirting with Donna.   
  
"Hey," said Dr. Malucci. "You belong with those G-Men?"   
  
"Unfortunately," CJ said, putting her purse on her shoulder.   
  
"You're also friends with Weaver aren't you?" Dr. Malucci asked.   
  
"Old friends yes, why?"   
  
"Do you know how it happened?"   
  
"How what happened?"   
  
Dr. Carter, who was drinking coffee, knew what Dave was getting at. "Dave, that's none of your business."   
  
Dr. Carter ignored his friend. "How Weaver got her crutch."   
  
"Oh." CJ said. "Well I don't know if I should tell you."   
  
"Please?"   
  
"Okay." CJ said, "Here goes."   
  
CJ moved towards Dave in a conspiratorial manner, brushing the hair back from her face. "At a grade school swim meet. Kerry kicked off from the pool wall on a turn, but she'd misjudged it, and she hit her leg right into it with a lot of force. So, she's got a bad knee, really, and back then they couldn't do anything for it."   
  
Dr. Malucci looked thoroughly disappointed. "That's it?"   
  
CJ gave him a look. "You think I'm lying to you?"   
  
"Well, you *are* a politician, *and* associated with the press, I might add, so making the chances of you telling me the truth minimal," Dr. Malucci replied, earning him another of CJ's looks. If she had given Sam or Josh *that* look, then they would have stopped a long time ago, but the doctor kept on, "Well why hasn't she had surgery. Surely they could fix her knee?"   
  
"That's still none of your business, Dave," Dr. Carter added. He opened the door for CJ, "Thank you for coming, Ms. Cregg."   
  
"No, thank you." CJ gave Dr. Carter a smile, "I'm sure the next time we're in Chicago for the elections, we'll drop by. Sam's bound to hit his head on something. He's very consistent."   
  
Dr. Carter pushed the ambulance bay doors open with a chuckle. "So, Dr. Weaver was a keen swimmer?"   
  
"No," CJ admitted. "But if I'd told him how it *really* happened, do you think he would have believed me?"   
  
"Putting some spin on the facts, were you?" Dr. Carter asked, eyes widening as he considered what really happened to Dr. Weaver's leg.   
  
CJ held up her hands, "It's my job."   
  
"Nice to meet you," Dr. Carter said, shaking CJ's hand as they reached a dark, anonymous car. "My warmest regards to the President and good luck to you all for re-election."   
  
"That's a bit in the premature, but thanks," CJ replied with a smile as she got into the car.   
  
As usual, Josh was the first one to speak up. "Canvassing votes already, CJ?"   
  
"Somebody's got to get back to politics whilst you two are having accidents and getting food poisoning," CJ smirked as the car started and drove into the busy street outside the hospital.   
  
Josh then remembered the stomach pain he was supposed to have, "I'm gonna get that checked out by Dr. Bartlet, could be something serious. I could be dying from some terrible thing. *Again*."   
  
CJ, Sam and Donna glared at Josh for the last comment, and he then shrank back into his seat. They rode for a few minutes in silence, which was a novel experience for them all.   
  
"Not that you would care if I got food-poisoning," Josh turned on Donna. "You're all set up with *Dr.* Dave, I'm sure you could go do angioplasties with him if I could never work again."   
  
Donna gave CJ and Sam the 'look what I have to put up with' face and slapped Josh up the side of his head.  
  
"Ow!"  
  
"Serves you right," Donna replied, crossing her arms.   
  
Sam moaned and rubbed his forhead, "Please, guys. It hurts enough as it is without you two bickering at such an amplitude."  
  
Josh quietened for a moment and then turned to CJ. "Y'know what I heard from one of the people in the hospital."  
  
CJ rolled her eyes impatiently, "What?"  
  
A smile crept across Josh's face as he replied flippantly. "She's gay."  
  
CJ's eyes widened. "She's WHAT?"  
  
"Guess the 'you must have a man' comment seems pretty ironic now," Sam added, his face deadpanned but his eyes were sparkling with amusement.  
  
"Shut up, Sam," CJ scowled.  
  
"'Kay."  
  



	2. The Curlers Calamity

Title: "The Curlers Calamity"   
Series: 'School Ties' - Part 3   
Fandoms: ER/Will & Grace  
Authors: Carrie Verkman & Charlotte Rodwell  
Genre: Humour/Crossover  
Category: W&G/J&K/JC/LKo  
Rating: PG-13  
Summary: Grace sets fire to her hair with her curlers; the whole gang's in Chicago... the cast of Will & Grace end up in the ER. Nonsensical hilarity ensues...  
  
  
"THE CURLERS CALAMITY"  
=====================  
  
  
"Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow," Grace Adler exclaimed as her friend Karen pulled a lock of Grace's fiery red hair from her the curler-shaped burn that had singed the skin on her head. She shot a icy-cold stare at her assistant, "My hair is *melded* to my scalp, Karen, it kinda hurts when you do that."  
  
Will Truman was holding open the door to County General Hospital's Emergency Room. He mimed a shiver, drawing attention to the fact that the temperature in autumnal Chicago was edging on the sub-zero values. "Karen, leave Grace's hair alone. It looks-" Will looked at Grace's hair, which, after encountering a nasty accident with a set of overheated rollers, resembled a bird's nest rather than a hair-do. "It looks..."  
  
Jack supplied a suitable adjective. "Goddamn awful."  
  
Will nodded and ushered in the two women. "Those are the exact words I was looking for."  
  
Grace rushed into the ER, her coat wrapped tightly around her as she dodged Karen's nimble fingers which were trying valiantly to rearrange her hair so it resembled something less Cro-Magnon.  
  
Will held out an arm and waved Jack into the hospital, "Ladies first."  
  
"Like I haven't heard that one, like, a *million* times before," Jack said with a roll of his eyes.  
  
"Well, you can't blame me," Will replied letting the door close behind him.   
  
"I'm going over there to get a soda," Jack said.  
  
Will smiled, "I'll come with you and get it for you."  
  
Jack headed towards the vending machines, he turned towards Will with a radiant smile. "All is forgiven."  
  
Grace moved over to the admissions desk, becoming extremely self-conscious and trying to tidy her hair up slightly. Karen looked at her attempt critically. Grace looked Karen, "What did I do wrong?"  
  
"Where do I start," Karen said with a little laugh. She gave her boss a wide smile, her hand held in mid-air. "Sweetie, nuh-huh," she shook her head, "I don't think so."  
  
Grace was about to ask Karen what exactly was so diabolical about her hair when tall man with brown hair appeared at the desk.  
  
"Can I he-"  
  
Grace turned around, her eyes wide. "My God!"  
  
The man smiled brightly and rushed from behind the desk to where she was standing. "Grace!"  
  
Grace enveloped him in her arms and he squeezed her back tight. "John Carter!"  
  
"I haven't seen you since summer camp, senior year!" Carter let go of Grace and looked at her with his warm brown eyes, "You look... wow," he smiled, searching for a appropriate word, "great!"  
  
His eyes caught a full glimpse of her hair and he stared at it with mild curiosity. Karen stepped forward and stuck out her hand to shake Carter's, "Hi there, doctor. Grace had a little trouble with her curlers, as you can imagine," she whispered conspiratorially, "her hair's not natural, ya see."  
  
Grace's jaw dropped, "Karen!"  
  
Karen clapped her hand over her mouth, then stamped her foot with irritation. "Devil!"  
  
Carter frowned with amusement and turned back to Grace, "So what brings you to Chicago?"  
  
"I knew I could get good treatment in this ER," Grace quipped.  
  
"Well, we'll have to see about that," Carter replied with a smile. "I'm gonna put you over there in Curtain-"  
  
"John?"  
  
Will was standing behind Grace, a can of open soda in his hand, which, in surprise, he had squeezed, sending a fountain of carbonated drink flowing across his fingers.  
  
Carter smiled at him, "Hey, Will! I don't believe it! You're here with Grace, aren't you... this isn't some sort of freak coincidence is it?"  
  
Will came over to him and they clapped each other on the back. Carter winced slightly, however neither Will nor Grace noticed.   
  
"Well, we live together y'see," Will explained.  
  
Carter smiled broadly, "I see..."  
  
Will caught his look and shook his head vehemently."Not like that."  
  
Grace looked horrified. "In a two bedroomed apartment."  
  
"With two separate beds."  
  
"In two different rooms."  
  
Carter looked at them both with an air of bemusement. He shook his head. "You're looking in good shape, Will."  
  
Will grinned giddily, "Well, same goes for you... you look..." he paused, "fantastic."  
  
Jack had just joined the group and he was stood next to Karen. "What did I miss?" he whispered.  
  
"Oh nothing much," Karen whispered back, "but, Will feels nothing but supergay love for that guy there, I can tell."  
  
Jack clapped her on the shoulder, "Excellent work, apprentice of the Gaydar. You are learning fast."  
  
"I know," she replied. "I'd bump stomachs with you... but we're in a hospital and ...nuh-huh, honey."  
  
He nodded knowingly, but then stopped still as he saw something tall, dark and handsome out of the corner of his eye, "Karen, 9 o'clock... look, super-stud on the horizon."  
  
Karen placed a hand to her mouth, "Heavens!"  
  
  
Jack and Karen's eyes were fixed on the tall, dark, and handsome man. They followed his every move as he worked.   
  
"I think I'm in love!" Jack exclaimed excitedly. "Break me off a piece of that!"   
  
"Oh honey, I'd hate to burst your bubble....oh well I'll do it anyway....but my gaydar reading is negative." Karen said. "I don't think he's gay."   
  
"And just what makes you so sure?" Jack asked, tapping his foot. "One out of every four doctors is gay! Let me see... the bald guy with the glasses isn't gay, the Asian doctor isn't gay, the curly haired surgeon over there isn't gay, and the red-haired doctor with the crutch is definitely not gay, so that makes that hunk over there available."   
  
"I'm not so sure about that red-haired doc." Karen said. She began to waltz her way over to the tall doctor. "If you'll excuse me, I have a little business to attend to."   
  
"Not if I get to him first!" Jack and Karen began to slowly walk over to the doctor with greasy hair, their speed increasing as the other one gained a lead.   
  
***  
  
Meanwhile, Dr. Carter had settled Grace down in the suture room. Grace asked to be secluded due to the fact she thought her hair looked like a rat's nest.   
  
"How did this happen Grace?" Carter asked as he carefully removed curlers from her hair.   
  
"Well I came down to Chicago for the Interior Design Awards, and in preparation for the event, I overheated my curlers. Next thing I know, I smell smoke and my hair is burning." Grace said.   
  
"Oh," said Carter. "Well I may have to cut some hair, I'll try not to cut a lot of it off, I know how much you love your hair. I remember back at summer camp you used to carry around a hairbrush and a curling iron."   
  
"Oh yeah?" Grace said, her voice turning slightly adolescent. "You used to cry if your expensive Italian hiking boots, which your rich parents bought, got dirty."   
  
"I did not!" Carter said. "And besides, I think Will was the strangest of us all, remember on talent night, Will sang a bunch of Elton John songs? I'll never understand why you did that Will."   
  
Will and Grace looked at each other knowingly. "Well I was, 18 back then, what do you expect?" Will chuckled nervously to himself.   
  
Grace looked at Carter to see if he had noticed Will's uncomfortable laugh, but he was busy looking at the skin on Grace's forehead.   
  
"Grace you're going to be fine," Carter said. "However, I do want to keep you here for a few hours for observation."   
  
"Okay. Thanks John." Grace said.   
  
"Hey, aren't those the two people you came in with?" Carter asked, pointing to Jack and Karen who were following the tall dark doctor. "It looks like they are running after Dr. Kovac!"   
  
"Oh no, Laverne and Shirley have escaped!" Will said. "I'll get them!"   
  
Will left the suture room to chase after Jack and Karen leaving Carter and Grace to themselves.   
  
"So...." Grace said. "It's really nice to see you. I'm sorry I haven't kept in touch since summer camp."   
  
"That's okay," Carter said, sitting on the exam bed next to Grace. "Seeing you now is enough for me."   
  
***  
  
Will found Karen and Jack at the admit desk, trying to strike up conversation with a tall, dark and extremely hunky looking doctor.   
  
He leant forwards and tapped Jack on the shoulder: "Tweedle-dumb and Tweedle-dumber; honestly I can't take you anywhere."  
  
Karen and Jack turned around and shot identical glares at Will who backed off in fright, despite himself. Karen turned to the doctor and patted him on the arm, "Ignore him, honey."  
  
"So, Luka," Jack started, ignoring Will and rolling the doctor's name off his tongue as if it were a name of a far-off city, "is that Croatian for Lucky?"  
  
The doctor looked at Jack in a strange way, as if he'd been asked the question before. "No, Luke, I guess... and you are."  
  
Jack stuck his hand out and gave the doctor a bright smile. "Jack." He made characteristic gesture with his hands, "Just Jack."  
  
"Just shoot me," Will rolled his eyes and started to walk off in the direction of the cafeteria. He needed to think of a strategy, one which would enable him to tell John Carter how he felt.  
  
As he boarded the elevator, he thought about how useful it would be if everyone had a Gaydar, then he wouldn't have to do the whole complicated 'I'm gay' thing.  
  
Will sighed, and went in search of coffee; the elixir of thought.  
  
  
***  
  
"So."  
  
"So?"  
  
"So"  
  
Carter chuckled, "Grace?"  
  
She shook her head and smiled, "Sorry, I guess the... fumes... are going... to my head?" Grace trailed off, not sure of where that sentence was supposed to go.  
  
Carter smiled at her, his warm brown eyes meeting hers for a tangible moment."Grace-"  
  
"John-" she said at the same time.  
  
They laughed at themselves, except Grace, in her nervousness, started to think that this was funnier than it actually was and couldn't stop herself from laughing.   
  
Carter looked at her with amusement, she snorted and then suddenly she stopped. "Whoah," she commented, "that was ... insane."  
  
"I wasn't gonna say anything, but-"  
  
"Shut up!" Grace replied with a whack on his leg.  
  
"You still hit like a girl," Carter retorted.  
  
Grace's jaw hung open, "Oh yeah, and like you're more manly than me, Mr. Armani pyjamas."  
  
"Hey, how do you know about my pyjamas?" Carter replied, a note of suspicion in his voice.  
  
"Well, when we were in camp and I went into your cabin to look for you-" Grace trailed off and blushed.  
  
"What were you doing looking for me?" Carter asked, staring at his old friend.  
  
"Well, I... I...." she glanced at him and screwed her eyes shut, tossing caution to the wind and saying what she had been meaning to say for the last twelve years in a long rushed utterance, "I had a crush on you."  
  
Carter smiled broadly, "You did?"  
  
"I did."  
  
"You really did?"  
  
"I really did."  
  
"Seriously?"  
  
"Seriously."  
  
"You had a crush on me?"  
  
Grace nodded, and begged to a higher power that her torture would end soon. "I have a crush on you."  
  
Carter didn't reply. But after a moment of silence he coughed. "I noticed a definite lack of the past tense just then."  
  
"I know," she replied, feeling like she wanted to cry. She had, in the least mature way, let her camp-crush know about how she felt for him. "I feel like such an idiot."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I just do."  
  
"Well, don't," he replied, resting a hand on her arm.  
  
"Why shouldn't I feel like an idiot."  
  
"'Cos..."  
  
"Cos, what? Cos, sine, tangent? I knew you were a maths buff, but, really-"  
  
However Grace couldn't finish as Carter had moved over to her and pressed his lips against hers.  
  
  
***  
  
Grace closed her eyes as Carter's lips pressed against hers. She kissed back and she felt Carter's hand move to her neck.   
  
Grace moved her lips away from Carter's. "You know I used to have this picture of you that I kissed every night before I went to bed."   
  
"Better to have the real thing, isn't it?" Carter asked.   
  
"Yes, and you're not wearing a bathing suit either!" Grace said with a giggle.   
  
"Hey, when did you get a picture of that?" Carter asked playfully.   
  
"Oh, I have my ways...I snuck through the woods and took it as you were getting out of the lake!"   
  
"Oh Grace!" Carter laughed and moved in to kiss Grace again. Grace laughed and pulled Carter on top of her on the exam bed.   
  
***  
  
"So Luka," asked Karen. "That accent, is it European?"   
  
"Yes," said Dr. Kovac. "I am from Croatia."   
  
"Oh well what a coincidence!" Jack chimed in. "My family is pure Croatian background!"   
  
"Really?" asked Luka. "So do you know what a 'lubencia' is?"  
  
"Oh that. Of course I know what that is. I wear them all the time!" Jack said. "I hope you use them too. And believe me, I see us using them in the future."   
  
Luka had a confused look on his face. "A 'lubencia' is a watermelon! Not a... well you know what you were talking about."   
  
"Jack, how could you?" Karen said, giving him a little smack on the head. "Excuse my friend here, Luka. He's a little overcome by his feelings."   
  
"Oh-kay..." Luka said. "Karen, would you like to get a cup of coffee with me?"   
  
"I'd love to!"   
  
"Fine!" said Jack. "I'll go find out how Grace is doing, since you're too busy pretending to show interest in Luka's ethnic background."  
  
Jack walked off towards the suture room where he last left Grace. As he walked by he saw Grace and Dr. Carter kissing on the exam bed.   
  
"Ugh, heterosexual contact," Jack said with a disgusted look on his face.   
  
***  
  
Meanwhile, in the cafeteria, Will was nervously drinking a cup of coffee. A short, red-haired doctor, with a crutch noticed how shaky he was.   
  
"Can I help you?" the doctor asked.   
  
"No thanks, I'm just nervous about something," Will said.   
  
The doctor could sense that it was something more so she sat herself down next to Will. "I'm Kerry Weaver."   
  
"Will Truman," he shook hands with her.   
  
"You don't look too good," Kerry observed.   
  
"I have to tell someone something, but it's very personal," Will said. "See there's this guy and... I mean, I know this guy, who has to tell another guy how he feels about him."   
  
"Well I think you shouldn't have to hide your sexuality," Kerry said.   
  
"How did you know I was gay?" Will asked.   
  
"Oh I just knew. I'm gay too, but I'm not afraid of what people think anymore, and you shouldn't be either," Kerry said.   
  
Will stood up. "Yeah! I shouldn't care what people think! So what if I'm gay?"   
  
"That's the spirit!" Kerry said.   
  
"I'm going to go up to John Carter and say, 'John Truman Carter, I have feelings for you!'" Will raised a fist in the air triumphantly. He then stormed out of the cafeteria with Kerry yelling behind him, her voice fading as he walked.   
  
"Will, wait!" Kerry began to hobble after him.   
  
***  
  
  
"Whoa Will, you look as if you're on a mission!" Jack said.   
  
"Yes I am. I have never been so confident in my life," Will said. "I'm going to tell Dr. Carter my feelings for him."   
  
"Then maybe you don't want go in there," Jack said, pointing to the suture room door.   
  
"Why?" Will asked.   
  
But before Will took notice of Jack's warnings he had pushed open the door and caught a glimpse of the scene in the suture room. A loud gasp caused John and Grace to break apart. They stared at Will with guilty and embarrassed expressions.   
  
"Well, what I want to say can wait until later," Will said, turning on his heel and walking out of the suture room.  
  
He bumped into Jack as he headed towards the elevators. "So?"  
  
"So what?" Will replied angrily.  
  
"He's not gay," Jack stated. "Gaydar's reading quite low on Dr. Carter."  
  
Will tried to get rid of Jack by not replying. However, Jack was not one to give up without a fight. "I said, 'He's not gay', Will! Would you like to comment or can I turn the question over to the audience now?"  
  
By this time they had reached the elevators and Will jabbed the call button mercilessly, needing another cup of coffee, sooner rather than later. "I don't know what you're talkin' about, Jack," he replied nonchalantly.  
  
"Yeah, right," Jack replied sarcastically. "Denial alert! BLING! BLING!"  
  
Will turned around and stared at Jack in disbelief. "Could you *be* any louder?"  
  
"I'm sure I could try," Jack replied with a wide smile.  
  
"Just leave me alone, Jack," Will whined. "Let me get back to wallowing in my own self-pity, would you?"  
  
"Oooh," Jack replied excitedly, "sounds like a pint-of-Ben & Jerry's moment, to me, mi amor."  
  
Will sent Jack a disparaging glare. "Don't call me 'mi amor', Jack. I swear if you use terms of endearments with me, you won't know what hit you."  
  
"Will Truman!" Jack exclaimed. "I love it when you talk dirty!"  
  
Rolling his eyes, Will boarded the elevator as soon as its doors opened. "Okay, but as long as you're buying."  
  
"I knew you couldn't resist Jack and ice cream."  
  
"Please! That gave me a really awful mental image."  
  
"Well, say goodbye to your free ice cream, Will."  
  
"Sorry."  
  
****  
  
"So, that's what happened."  
  
Karen held Luka's hand, her eyes wet from listening to his sob-story for the last fifteen minutes. "Oh Luka, how terrible! What an awful life you must have had."  
  
"The pain of that loss is so ... painful, I just need to talk about it sometimes," Luka confided, blowing his nose on a fine cotton handkerchief that Karen provided him with, as if from thin air.  
  
" I can imagine what you went through - I mean, if *that* happened to my hair, I dunno what I'd do," Karen replied with a little laugh.   
  
Luka burst into tears. "I don't know what I did wrong - my hair used to be so clean!"  
  
"Don't worry, honey," Karen said with pat on his arm. "I know just the thing you need."  
  
"A wig... shampoo... eye of newt?" Luka asked. "I tried them all."  
  
"No, no, no, dear," Karen replied with a her characteristic laugh. "Frédéric."  
  
"Frédéric?"  
  
"He's a God!" Karen whispered conspiratorially. "Even though he unfortunately scores too high for my liking on the Gaydar."  
  
"I'm confused."  
  
"I'm sure you are, honey."  
  
  
***  
"Oh my God, I can't believe Will saw us!" Carter exclaimed. "What a mess, what a mess.... a mess!"  
  
"OH MY GOD!!!" Grace echoed in panic. "What's gonna happen. I mean, Will.... hey, back up a second, buddy!" She turned to Carter, "Just why are we being so panicky about Will seeing us kissing? I certainly don't have any issues, you don't either, right?"  
  
Carter didn't reply.  
  
"Right?" Grace prompted.  
  
Still no reply.  
  
"RIGHT?" She barked.  
  
He turned to her and looked at her as he bit his lip. "There's something I need to tell you Grace."  
  
She stared at the ceiling an put her hands together in prayer. "Please God, don't let him say that he's gay as well."  
  
"Grace, I... I..."  
  
"Get it over with already!" Grace moaned, wondering what on earth he was going tell her.  
  
"Grace, I...I..." Carter stammered.   
  
"Just spit it out!" Grace demanded.   
  
"I just remembered that I have a patient to see," Carter said, running his hand nervously through his hair. "A gunshot wound victim. I'll be right back, and don't you go anywhere."   
  
"John!" Grace called after him as he left. She was left alone, still wondering if Carter really did have a patient, or was scared to come out to her just yet.   
  
Carter shut the exam room door behind him with a sigh. "That was close."   
  
  
***  
  
  
"Who is Frédéric?" asked Luka.   
  
"Only the best hairdresser in New York," Karen explained. "He got me out of that horrible 80's perm craze, it saved my life!"   
  
"Really? So you think he can help me with my hair?" Luka asked, sniffling through his last few tears.   
  
"Oh sure honey," Karen said. "But as for your emotions... well that's not his department. I've never seen anyone get so upset over hair!"   
  
With that Luka began to cry all over again. Karen handed him another handkerchief. "There, there honey."   
  
***  
  
"You know what I love about ice cream?" Jack said.   
  
"You know what I love about it? It shuts you up," Will said. His head was lying down on the table as if he was a little boy pouting.   
  
"Stop it Will," Jack said. "You're making me depressed with that sad, puppy dog look on your face."   
  
"I can't believe he's not gay," Will whined. "I mean did you see his shoes? Those were definitely Dolce and Gabana. No straight man would ever be caught dead in those."   
  
"Will, get over it," Jack said. "I think you've forgotten the real reason why we're here. We here to support Grace as she goes through her curlers calamity. The poor thing, and her hair. Show a little compassion! Stop worrying over Dr. Carter. Although I must say he does have a nice ass."   
  
"Yeah he does." Will sighed. "Let's go check on Grace."   
  
Just as they were about to get up, Carter came running up to them. "Will wait!"   
  
"What?" Will asked.   
  
"I'm so glad...I found...you," Carter said catching his breath. "I have something...to tell you."   
  
"Yes?" replied Will, his heart beating faster with the anticipation which hung in the air.  
  
"Well, it's more of a question," Carter restated, nervously biting his lip.  
  
Will pulled out the spare seat next to him and gestured for Carter to sit down. "Yes?"  
  
Carter sat and rubbed his face with a moan. "Um... I don't know how to say this, but..."  
  
"Hey, we're old friends," Will replied with a smile. "You can ask me anything."  
  
"Okay then," Carter replied. "You know in camp, back in high school."   
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Well, I kinda had feelings for somebody," Carter finished, his cheeks growing redder by the second.  
  
Will leaned forwards and gave him a smile, "Really?"   
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Well, I'm not sure how to tell you this, but," Carter took a breath. "It was ... oh to hell with it, it was your brother."  
  
Will's jaw dropped open in shock. "My brother?"  
  
Jack, who had been trying to mind his own business as he practised throwing packets of sugar into an empty cup of coffee, looked up. "Will's brother Sam? I can totally understand."  
  
Will hit his head against the table. "Oh, this is just too ironic."  
  
"I'm not through!" Carter continued.  
  
"The hell you are!" Will retorted. "I can't believe this - my brother and my best friend had sex; and now I find out that my high school crush has feelings for my brother and my best friend, but *no*, he doesn't have feelings for me. Can you believe that, John, 'cos I certainly can't!"  
  
Carter frowned, "Hey, did you just say that you-"  
  
Will spoke right through him, "And, Jack - your Gaydar may be spot on, but you might want to start developing a bi-sexometer sometime soon."  
  
Jack nodded with an excited gleam in his eye, "I'll get straight on it, mi compadre, right after I tell Karen about this little fracas!"  
  
Carter waved a hand in front of Will's face, "Hey, I haven't finished yet!"  
  
Will pushed his chair back from the table and threw his spoon into a half-finished tub of Chunky Monkey, "As far as I'm concerned, you've had your say."  
  
He walked out of the cafeteria, with Jack and Carter watching his retreating form.   
  
Jack picked up the carton of ice-cream, "Waste not, want not. Want some, Johnny boy?"  
  
But Carter had already gone, as if he had vanished into thin air.  
  
  
***  
  
"Will!" Carter said. "Just hear me out!"   
  
Will kept on walking away. He was burning mad, like Grace's hair.   
  
"I decided to tell you I had feelings for Sam because I wanted to let you know that I am gay and I have feelings for you now!" Carter said in one breath.   
  
Will stopped and slowly turned around. "What?"  
  
"Today when you walked in here, I thought I was in love. You've been the only thing that has brightened my day. I'm sorry about this Will. But I wasn't sure if you felt the same way." John said.   
  
"Oh John you know I do!" Will said. He ran up to Carter and the two men hugged.   
  
"What about making-out with Grace?" Will asked.   
  
"Oh that was my last heterosexual experience," Carter said. "From now on it's all men, all the time."   
  
Jack had been wiping his eyes with a tissue during the whole scene. "Brilliant! Just brilliant! I give it two thumbs up for the compassion, but two thumbs down for those suspenders Johnny Carter."   
  
"What's wrong with my suspenders?" Carter said. "I wear them all the time."   
  
"Nothing. I think they're cute on you," Will said.   
  
"Thank you," Carter said with a big smile on his face.   
  
***  
  
"Karen, would you still like me if I had different hair?" Luka asked.   
  
"Of course I would honey!" Karen said. "You have to come back to New York with me. I can get you all the help you need."   
  
"Karen, promise me this," Luka said, caressing her hands.   
  
"Yes, my dear Luka?"   
  
"Promise me you'll never tell anyone I cried okay?"  
  
"I promise," Karen said.   
  
Just then Jack came up waving his hands excitedly. "Karen you will never guess what happened! Dr. Carter and Will hooked up after this long dramatic make-up scene. You should have seen all the drama! I was moved to tears!"  
  
"Oh sweetie I had my own drama here. Luka cried waterfalls over his hair. Such a shame." Karen said, totally forgetting the promise.   
  
"Karen!" Luka said.   
  
"What honey?"   
  
**  
  
"I'm so glad we ran into each other today." Will said. He was in the lounge with Carter.   
  
"Me too," Carter said. "If Grace had never burned her hair, we would have never met again."   
  
Just then Chuni opened the doors to the lounge. "Hey Carter, do you have a patient in the suture room?"   
  
"Yeah, Grace Adler. Why?" Carter asked.   
  
"Well she's starting to go a little crazy," Chuni said. "She keeps muttering something about straight men turning gay. Psych consult?"   
  
"No. Chuni, thanks anyway, but I've got it," Carter said. He left the lounge with Will following him.   
  
***  
  
Carter and Will made their way, anxiously, to the examination room. They peeped through the window before entering, and an even greater fear was driven into their hearts by the sight of Grace waving her arms around and muttering like a lunatic.  
  
Will took a deep breath, squeezed Carter's hand and gave him a small smile. "Here goes nothing."  
  
He pushed open the door and walked in, Carter following him a few steps behind. Grace froze, her arms in mid-flail and stared at the two men.  
  
"I'm right, aren't I?" Grace hissed between her clenched teeth.  
  
She caught Carter's eye and he gave a slight nod, bowing his head in embarrassment. Chuni looked on in amusement, mentally noting down every incident so in order to spread the gossip around the hospital during her coffee break.  
  
Grace nodded slowly, her face turning redder by the second. "So, what was I exactly? The victim of a sadistic plan you two concocted to make me feel as undesirable as possible? A 'toy' for you to play around with when you're slightly bored? Tell me please, 'cause when another gay person comes along and kisses me, I'll recognise what they're doing and give them an ass-kicking."  
  
Will and Carter stared at Grace, their mouths gaping slightly as they tried to follow the rapid stream of words that erupted from her mouth.  
  
"Grace, I-" Will started, making a move towards her.  
  
Grace held out her hand in front of her. "Don't even try to make it up to me, mister!" she seethed.  
  
Will backed up. "That told me."  
  
"Well, what do you have to say, then?" Grace asked Carter, bouncing up and down on the spot in agitation.  
  
Carter, who up to this moment had been staying well out of the way of any verbal abuse, looked up sheepishly. "Sorry?"  
  
"Have you got an explanation," Grace inquired, tearfully. "A reason to why you lied about missing me, and wanting me, and if you were really thinking about Will when you were kissing me."  
  
Will looked at Carter expectantly, "Well, were you?"  
  
Carter looked from Grace, to Will, and back to Grace again. "Grace... Will... I don't know how to tell you this..."  
  
For a moment, a look of panic flashed over Will's face. "Oh, please don't go all hetero on me, again... I thought you said that Grace was your last straight experience!"  
  
"What!" Grace exclaimed, louder than she had been before. "I mean, you weren't just playing around with me for fun? You just grabbed and kissed me because it was your last chance to go with a woman before you and Will hooked up!"  
  
"If I remember, there wasn't a lot of grabbing going on," Carter amended, moving slightly closer to Grace.  
  
"Oh yeah?" Grace shot back. "Tell my ass that!"  
  
Will looked at Carter, his mouth agape. "You touched her ass?"  
  
Carter stammered, "Well.... y-y-yeah, I suppose."  
  
Jack, Karen and Luka burst through the door, no-one in the room noticed them as they looked on in anticipation of a girl-slapping contest.  
  
"But you're gay!" Will exclaimed, "The kiss isn't too painful, but if you were really gay, no way could you do that."  
  
A look of triumph dawned over Carter's face. "If I was straight, I couldn't do this." He grabbed Will's shoulders and drew him towards him. Carter kissed Will fully on the lips, whilst Will stood there dumbstruck. After a moment he began to reciprocate, wrapping his arms around Carter's waist, and it was only when Grace burst into small gasping sobs that they broke away, a contented look on Will's face.   
  
"Whoo-hooo!" Jack exclaimed. "Will finally gets some."  
  
Chuni and Grace stared at the two men, blinking in disbelief. The nurse turned to Grace and whispered, "Is it just me or was that really hot?"  
  
Grace sobbed again, and blew her nose on her sleeve. Karen, from across the room tutted, "No, honey. Nuh -huh!"  
  
"Shut up!" Grace wailed.   
  
Carter moved out of Will's arms and took a step over to Grace. "But, you see, if I was straight, I couldn't do this," Carter whispered, tipping Grace's chin up and capturing her mouth in deep kiss. Grace held her arms out stiffly at her sides and let herself kiss Carter passionately.   
  
They finally drew away from each other after a minute and Grace grimaced, turning to Will. "Did you just drink, like ten mugs of black coffee?"  
  
"Hospitals are stressful," Will replied slowly, "and what the hell just happened there, Dr. Jekyll?"  
  
Karen fanned herself with a T-Sheet. "I dunno, but I could do with a double vodka right now, honey, never mind the coffee."  
  
Carter turned from Will, then to Grace. "I have to tell you guys something."  
  
Jack jumped in front of Carter, "I knew I was getting something wrong on the Gay-dar, but my Bi-Sexometer, and thanks for the tip on a great brand name Will, is reading 100% on this bundle of laughs."  
  
Grace and Will stared at the young doctor. "You're bi?"  
  
Carter looked at Chuni and Dr. Kovac, and after deducing that his reputation has been shredded to smithereens by this point in time, blurted out the truth. "Yeah."  
  
"Jackpot! Bling-bling, Jack is a winner!" Jack exclaimed, punching the air.  
  
"So, if you don't mind me asking, which one of us are you after?" Grace asked, looking even more confused than normal.  
  
"Both of you," Carter replied, wincing slightly as he anticipated a negative response. "Grace, you're gorgeous, you're charismatic and funny, you've got a beautiful smile and I love you so much, I couldn't take my eyes off you since you walked back in. And Will..., well... ditto."  
  
"And I've got a neater tush," Will added with a slow smile.  
  
"But you have you got these?" Grace asked, pointing to her chest.  
  
Carter smiled at both of them. "I know this is very confusing, I mean, I've been confused by it for well over ten years, but do you think you can forgive me?"  
  
Will and Grace looked at each other. "I don't know about you, Will, but I think we've found our ideal man. Someone who we won't be jealous of if he goes on a date with either of us."  
  
Karen laughed hysterically. "Oh my God, I almost want to call up Jerry Springer and get you all on TV. You know what would really make this little sordid tale complete... if our dear little Will was actually straight."  
  
Karen saw Will go red and she stopped laughing. "Oh honey, don't tell me that I hit on a sore nerve there."  
  
"What's she talking about, Will?" Grace asked, bending slightly so she could stare directly into Will's downturned eyes.  
  
"Grace, I have to confess... last week, I kissed a woman who wasn't my mother."  
  
"MY EARS!" Jack cried, crumpling to the floor.  
  
"You what?" Grace and Carter replied incredulously.  
  
"Grace, it wasn't a foolish whim, it wasn't experimental, it wasn't a dare - I'm bi too."  
  
Grace looked at Chuni, "Did you give me some novacaine when I wasn't looking?"  
  
Chuni shook her head, engrossed by the revelations that were unfolding in front of her.  
  
Grace turned back to Will and was about to speak when he wrapped her in his arms and pressed his lips against her in a heated embrace. Will ran a hand down Grace's back and let it rest on her waist, whilst Grace ran her hands through Will's hair. Luka coughed in embarrassment and the two friends broke apart.  
  
Grace looked up at Will and laughed nervously. "Oh, how lucky am *I*?"  
  
"So my plan is we grab Dr. Carter here, drag him to your hotel room and take things from there," Will proposed, running his hands through Grace's slightly singed hair.  
  
"Sounds like fun," Grace replied, grabbing both Carter's and Will's neckties and leading them out of the exam room. "If anyone calls from the Interior Design Awards, tell them I'm very busy."  
  
Karen's mouth dropped open and she screamed at Luka. "It's all your fault!" Then, without warning, she transformed into a ten tonne, ice-cream eating alien from outer-space.  
  
***  
***  
  
"AGHHHH!!!!!" Grace screamed, sitting bolt upright.  
  
"AGHHHH!!!!!" Will screamed back from where he was putting Grace into the recovery position.  
  
Grace looked around her, and saw her hotel room in Chicago. Her curlers were lying scattered across the floor and there was the smell of burning hair in the air. She was even more confused. Grace pinched herself, "Owww!"  
  
"Did you hurt your head on the way down?" Will asked, looking at her with concern.  
  
Grace nodded slowly and looked at Will with trepidation, "You're not gonna kiss me again are you?"  
  
"What?" Will chuckled, rubbing her shoulders.  
  
Grace turned and kissed him on the lips. He didn't reciprocate, and instead sat there, as passionate as a limp stick of celery. She broke off the kiss and stared at Will, "Nothing?"  
  
"Grace, I'm still gay, whether you kiss me or not."  
  
She collapsed back onto the floor, "Thank God!"  
  
Will sighed, "I think we better get you to the hospital, you seem to have hit your head pretty badly on that dresser when you fainted."  
  
Grace sat up bolt upright again, her eyes wide. "Oh God, no! Don't take me to the hospital please."  
  
"Well, you must of got hurt pretty bad if you dreamt about me kissing you, Grace!" Will replied with a chuckle.  
  
"I'll got a hospital in New York, right now there's an awards ceremony I'm supposed to be at," Grace remembered, getting off the floor. "Help me get into my dress."  
  
Grace took off her bathrobe and threw it at Will. He raised an eyebrow, "Grace Adler, are you trying to seduce me?"  
  
"You wish," Grace replied, slipping on her dress and turning her back to Will. "Zip me up and get Karen to come in here and help me out with my hair."  
  
"It's not too badly burnt," Will reassured her. "I'd be more concerned by that bruise that's appearing on your forehead."  
  
Grace grabbed a compact mirror and grimaced at the red mark on her head. "Dammit."  
  
  
"Don't worry about it, Grace. You look fabulous," Will added with a smile.  
  
Grace turned around and looked Will in the eye. "Do you remember John Carter?"  
  
***  
FIN  
*** 


	3. A Day in the Life of a Comedian - And Ot...

Title: A Day In The Life Of A Comedian (And Other IntEResting Stories)  
Series: 'School Ties' - Part 4   
Authors: Carrie Verkman & Anna Rousseau   
Fandoms: ER/SNL  
Genre: Humour/Crossover  
Category: SNL:JF/CK/TM & ER:AL/LKo  
Rating: PG-13   
Summary: An injury occurs during a taping of a special Saturday Night Live in Chicago....three men in drag end up in the ER....old relationships bring comedy to   
County...  
  
  
SCHOOL TIES IV  
==============  
  
'A Day in the Life of a Comedian (And Other IntEResting Stories)  
----------------------------------------------------------------  
  
  
"Jimmy, that's a great color on you man!" Tracy Morgan joked as he pointed at Jimmy's light blue polyester pants and floral blouse.   
  
"Hey now, don't get me started on your push-up bra." Jimmy teased back. He began to playfully punch Tracy in the shoulder and Tracy punched back.   
  
"Lorne says we need to be on the set in 2 minutes." Chris Kattan announced. He too was dressed as an elderly woman, but he wasn't having any fun with it. "I can't believe Lorne actually got us to dress in drag to do a Golden Girls skit."   
  
"It will be fun." Jimmy said. "Do these pants make me look fat?"   
  
"You're having a little too much fun Jimmy!" Chris said.   
  
Tracy put his arms around both of his cast members. "Hey, hey, hey, we've forgotten what this is all about! We're here to entertain other people. And if we have to do it dressed as little old ladies, we do it dammit!"   
  
Chris' spirits were lifted once again. "Yeah, I mean the drag is only temporary."   
  
"All right!" shouted Lorne Michaels. He was the show's producer and center of the show's success. Lorne's idea to travel to other major cities was also a huge success and right now he was stopped in Chicago to bring laughter to the windy city. "Places everyone!"   
  
Jimmy, Tracy, and Chris seated them selves at a table that looked just like the one from the Golden Girls set. The whole stage looked like the original Golden Girls set.   
  
"Now remember what we practiced. Jimmy talks about going on a date with a retired pipe fitter to Tracy, Chris makes the joke, he pretends to choke on the blueberry cheesecake he's eating and falls off the chair, we get a thousand laughs, and the end." Lorne said.   
  
The three guys nodded and soon the camera was filming their skit live and broadcasting it all over Chicago.   
  
Jimmy assumed the role of an old lady and began his lines. "Well I just had a wonderful date with Tom last night. He's a retired pipe fitter."   
  
"How did his pipe fit?" Chris asked in a little voice.   
  
"Now honey, that's no way to talk!" Tracy said, rolling his eyes.  
  
However Chris was laughing at his own joke. He began pretend to choke on the cheesecake and he fell off the chair. Jimmy and Tracy ran to help him up.   
  
"And cut!" Lorne said. "Chris you okay?"   
  
"Call an ambulance!" Jimmy yelled. Chris was moaning in pain on the floor.   
  
"Chris, you okay?" Tracy asked.   
  
"My back...I think I broke it." said Chris, trying to get up. Jimmy grabbed his arm to steady him on his feet but Chris wobbled and fell over.   
  
"Hang in there man." Jimmy said. "We'll get you to a hospital."   
  
***  
  
  
"What do we got?" asked Luka Kovac, attending to the incoming trauma.   
  
"30 year old male...yeah, that's right a male, with tenderness on the spinal cord...he fell from a chair pretty hard, may have a slipped disk." Pickman announced, as she rolled in Chris, who was still in drag.   
  
"Dude, he's in a lot of pain!" Jimmy said.  
  
"Calm down. We'll give him something for the pain, Betty White." Dr. Kovac said, taking notice to their costumes.   
  
"He's Betty White." Jimmy said pointing to Tracy. "I'm Rue McClanahan, and he's Estelle Getty."   
  
"No Bea Arthur?" Luka asked.   
  
"It's not funny!" Chris said, ripping off his old lady wig.   
  
"All right, all right." Luka said. "Chuni, give him 10 of morphine and set up for radiology."   
  
"Sure. Hey aren't you those guys from that skit show? Saturday Night Live?" she asked.   
  
Jimmy and Tracy nodded. They were used to this. "Yeah."   
  
"Oh you guys rock!" Chuni said. "Do some impressions!"   
  
"Well...we are dressed in drag." Jimmy said.   
  
"Okay." Chuni nodded. "Hey Dr. Kovac, should I get Abby to help you while I call radiology?"   
  
"Yes, thank you Chuni." Luka said.   
  
"Abby?" Jimmy said. "You don't think it's..."  
  
"Couldn't be." answered Tracy. "That was years ago man."  
  
Abby Lockhart walked in the trauma room, unaware of Jimmy and his friends.   
  
"Excuse me ladies, I need to get something from here." Abby said as she reached for some supplies.   
  
"Dude, it's her!" Tracy said.   
  
"I know!" Jimmy whispered.   
  
"Jimmy? Jimmy Fallon is that you?" Abby asked.   
  
"Uh, yeah, hi." Jimmy said. He turned bright red as he pulled off his wig and clip-on earrings.   
  
Abby looked at Jimmy, a slow incredulous smile creeping across her mouth. "So this is the reason why you left me," she said, gesturing to his feminine attire.  
  
"You know me," Jimmy replied, nervously wiping off his lipstick with the sleeve of his blouse - wardrobe wouldn't be pleased about that when he got back to the studio. "Willing to try anything."  
  
"As I remember, that's a pretty accurate statement." Abby replied with a wry smile.  
  
Chris and Tracy looked on curiously with wide smiles as Jimmy shifted anxiously from one foot to the other. Jimmy blushed and turned to his fellow cast members, "What're you two smirking about?"  
  
"Nothing," they chimed.  
  
"Excuse me Jimmy, I need to attend to this patient," Abby said, pushing past him.  
  
Abby helped Chris turn onto his side. Suddenly a tall man in a lab coat burst through the door and approached Chris, Jimmy, Tracy and Abby.   
  
"Hey, Abby, you need a doc?" he asked, picking up a chart and inspecting it briefly.  
  
"Luka's got this one, Carter," she replied as she began to apply gentle pressure to Chris's back. "You think I should push 10 lidocaine?"  
  
Carter peered over the gurney and for the first time caught sight of the three men in drag. "Yeah, but I'd get a stat pysch consult first," he replied with a small laugh. Carter touched Abby on the forearm, "See you later. Bye, ladies."  
  
Jimmy watched the doctor as he left the room. He raised an eyebrow. "So, is he the one you're playing doctors and nurses with?"  
  
Abby shot him a look as she began to fill a syringe with lidocaine. "Ha, ha. Very droll, Jimmy. If you really want to know, the answer is 'no'."  
  
"I love it when you rhyme," he quipped.  
  
She looked up and cocked her head to the side. "Don't try and make it up to me James Fallon. I want you to get out of my sight before I take this syringe and ram it up your butt."  
  
Jimmy deadpanned. "Oh, Abby Lockhart, stop talking dirty."  
  
Abby took a step forward, "I'm serious, stop talking or get out of my trauma room."  
  
Jimmy stepped back as Abby pointed the syringe at him. She really was serious.   
  
"Okay, okay." Jimmy said. "Just put the needle down and no one will get hurt." He slowly began to back out of the trauma room, with Tracy following.   
  
"That's okay guys. Just leave me alone here!" Chris wailed.   
  
"We'd better let Abby work." Jimmy said. "We'll come back later."   
  
"Yeah, " said Tracy. "I'd like to see my next birthday." Both of the men ran out of the trauma room. Jimmy let out an exasperated sigh.   
  
"This is great. Just perfect." Jimmy said. "One of my best friends is hurt, and my ex-girlfriend is here taking care of him. I do not need this."   
  
"Dude, why did she get so upset. And she called you James. No one but yo' mamma calls you James." Tracy asked.   
  
"It's a long story." Jimmy replied. He walked over to the pop machine and bought a diet coke.   
  
"Well we may be here a while if Abby keeps kicking us out like that. So sit down and lay it on me." Tracy said.   
  
"All right." Jimmy said. "Abby lived in New York for a while. She and I dated all through high school. On our Senior Prom night I got drunk. Really drunk. Abby called me over for the last slow dance of the night. They were playing "Take My Breath Away" by Berlin. Well seeing as how I couldn't stand up to dance, I waltzed my way up on stage and began to sing the words making a huge fool of myself."  
  
Tracy whistled. "Then what?"   
  
"Well some people thought that I was funny and that I should become a comedian. But Abby didn't. When the song was over I was passed out on stage. Abby was the first thing I saw when I came to, and she dumped me right there. I humiliated myself and Abby and she's never forgiven me."  
  
"I hate to break this to you Jim, but you are humiliating yourself again with these clothes on." Tracy said.   
  
"What a crappy day!" Jimmy yelled throwing his hands in the air.   
  
  
Meanwhile in the trauma room, Abby and Luka continued to work on Chris.   
  
"X-Rays are back." Abby announced.  
  
"Did I break my back?" Chris asked.   
  
"Not exactly. You have a herniated disk." Luka said. "We may need to do some surgery. But I can guarantee that you'll be in the hospital for a few days."   
  
"Okay." Chris said.   
  
"Abby, give him a liter of saline." Luka said. "So what was that all about?"  
  
"What was what all about?" Abby asked.  
  
"You showing Chris' friends out the door. They could have stayed." Luka said.   
  
"Jimmy is Abby's ex." said Chris.   
  
Abby and Luka glared at him. "What?" asked Chris. "Just cause I hurt my back doesn't mean I can't talk!"   
  
"Oh really?" asked Luka. He looked at Abby as if she had done something wrong.   
  
"It was years ago." Abby said. "Why do you care?"   
  
"I'm just curious."   
  
"You're jealous."  
  
"No I'm not."  
  
"You're jealous!" Abby said with a valley girl tone in her voice. "Ever since we broke up you've been nitpicking everything I do."   
  
"I'm just making sure that he wont hurt you again." Luka said. "At least let me be gallant."   
  
"I'm done here." Abby said. "Let me know if you need anything Chris." She turned to Luka. "I'm going to see if Carter needs some help."   
  
Chris looked at Luka. "She just gave you a major dis."   
  
"You're wearing a floral dress!"  
  
"Touche." Chris said.  
  
***  
  
Jimmy and Tracy were in the waiting room quietly talking when the greasy haired doctor came up to them.   
  
"Jimmy?" Luka asked.   
  
"Yeah?"   
  
"I don't want to cause any problems, so I'll just say this nicely. Stay away from Abby!"   
  
"Um....okay. Sure, anything you want Dr. Kovac."  
  
Tracy nudged Jimmy as Dr. Kovac strode out of site, his lab coat billowing behind him. "What was that all about?"  
  
Jimmy shrugged his shoulders. "I dunno, but that guy has the air of a malevolent vampire bat, don't you think."  
  
"Maybe he's Count Dracula," Tracy joked.  
  
"Count Doc-ula," Jimmy shot back. He winced, "Man, that was lame - I -." He stopped and his eyes grew wide with fear.  
  
Tracy stared at his friend, "Jimmy?"  
  
He didn't answer him.  
  
"Jimmy, dude!"  
  
"What?" Jimmy asked, his facial features stuck into an expression of horror and trepidation.  
  
"You went all 'Sixth Sense' on me, dude," Tracy replied with genuine concern, "What's up?"  
  
"It's happening," Jimmy whispered hoarsely.  
  
"What's happening?" his friend replied, getting slightly worried.  
  
"I'm freezing up! My comic talent is evaporating... I'm not mildly amusing, I'm not vaguely entertaining, I've turned into..." Jimmy hit his hand against his head repeatedly, "and I can't think of an funny similie to finish this joke." He let his head roll back and squeezed his eyes shut. "I'm... mediocre!" he finished, melodramatically.  
  
"Dude?" Tracy asked, slightly disturbed by Jimmy's histrionics.  
  
Jimmy sighed, "This happens every time I'm near Abby, she sucks any comedic talent I have out of me, she's like this vaccum into which all one-liners and jokes about politicians are drawn. She's a black hole consuming all happiness-"  
  
"Sounds like my mother," Tracy said.  
  
"Don't be flippant, man!" Jimmy replied. "This is serious. Abby is making me seriously un-funny, as she does every time she fixes her evil - yet strangely seductive - gaze on me."  
  
"Jimmy, are you trying to write a soap opera?"  
  
"Tracy," Jimmy said under his breath, turning to his friend with wild eyes, "I have to get out of this hellmouth, I have to leave Abby behind, I have to rediscover the funny before it's too late. If I don't have 6 days minumum rehab, something drastic will happen. The world will implode because-"  
  
"Yeah," Tracy urged him on in awe.  
  
"Because, I won't be funny in time for next week's Saturday Night Live," he finished with a sigh.  
  
Tracy laughed, "Now *that* was pretty funny."  
  
Jimmy got up and dragged his friend to the door, "You don't understand, Abby sucks the funny out of you bit by bit, look by look. If I see her again, no one can tell what effect it could have on me. I only have to think back to that dark winter when I was 19-"  
  
"Shut it, Jimmy!" Tracy interupted, looking very frightened by his friend. "We can't just leave Chris here."  
  
"Oh yes we can!" Jimmy replied, racing to the door and dragging Tracy with him. "We have to leave her territory of evil as quickly as possible."  
  
They had just reached the door to the ambulance bay when a voice called out from behind them.  
  
"Where do you think you're going?"  
  
Jimmy stopped in his tracks. He turned around to see Chris being wheeled around on a gurney.   
  
"You are not leaving me here." Chris said. "It's bad enough I had to come in here wearing panty hose, but now I need surgery!"  
  
"I have to get out of here!" Jimmy said. "I need to regain my comedic ability before the next show. I need to get away from Abby!"   
  
"Why?" asked Chris. "She's cute. I can't believe you two broke up."   
  
"Not helping!" Jimmy whined.   
  
"Jimmy, maybe we can hide out in the doctor's lounge until Chris gets back from surgery. I'd feel bad if we left him here all alone." Tracy stuck out his bottom lip and Chris did the same.  
  
"Puh-wease?" Chris begged.   
  
"Okay." Jimmy said. "Just keep me away from Abby or I'll....I'll..."  
  
"Have a hot flash?" Tracy said, once again pertaining to Jimmy's drag clothes.   
  
"See? I could have thought of that, but no!" Jimmy pushed open the door of the lounge.   
  
"Catch ya later man!" Tracy said to Chris as he followed Jimmy into the lounge.   
  
***  
  
"Hey, you're Tracy Morgan from Saturday Night Live!" said Jing-Mei Chen.   
  
"The one and only!" Tracy said shaking her hand.   
  
"I am like, your biggest fan! I have all of your shows on tape and I have pictures of you all over my apartment." She said, still shaking his hand.   
  
"Sounds like you've got a stalker." Jimmy said.   
  
Tracy ignored his friend. "Thank you. Would you like to get a cup of coffee?"   
  
"Oh my God! Oh my God! I'm going to have coffee with Tracy Morgan!" Jing-Mei said excitedly.   
  
Tracy escorted Jing-Mei out of the lounge while Jimmy sat thinking of a plan to get Abby back for making him lose his creativity.   
  
It was at that moment Abby waltzed into the lounge. Jimmy flinched.   
  
"Don't get your panties in a twist Jimmy, I just came to get some coffee." Abby said.   
  
"I wasn't." Jimmy said.   
  
"So." said Abby. This time she felt like being civil.   
  
"So..." Jimmy said with a tremulous tone in his voice.   
  
"You know I have to say that I'm surprised to see you all rich and famous." Abby said.  
  
"Uh-huh." That was all Jimmy could say. He wasn't able to think of any witty anecdotes to complete Abby's remark.   
  
"And to think you were voted Least Likely To Take Life Seriously in high school." Abby continued.   
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Jimmy Fallon! I'm surprised you haven't made one smart-ass comment to me yet!"   
  
"Well I....uh..."  
  
"I like that though. You really are mature!" Abby went over to Jimmy and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. "Good to see you again Jimmy."  
  
With that Jimmy felt his jokes coming back. It was as if Abby had replenished him of his talent.  
  
Before Jimmy could say anything Abby walked out of the lounge and Dr. Kovac walked in.   
  
"Hey Jimmy how are you-what's that on your cheek?" Dr. Kovac said.   
  
A hand flew to Jimmy's face and he wiped off the remains of Abby's strawberry scented lip gloss. "Um, it's my make up?"  
  
"Oh okay...I thought it was something else. Like Abby had kissed you or something. But she wouldn't kiss an ex-boyfriend."  
  
"That's not what she said last night!" Jimmy said, finally releasing that bottled up joke.   
  
"Excuse me?" Dr. Kovac looked down on Jimmy with menacing eyes. He was so close Jimmy could smell his hair gel.   
  
Jimmy shrank away from the face which was looming down on him. "Hey, man! I didn't..."  
  
"You didn't what?" Dr. Kovac asked, grabbing Jimmy by the lapels of his blouse.  
  
"It was a figure of speech, y'know, a little joke. A slither of innuendo... don't you have that where you come from?"  
  
"I'll happen to let you know that Croatia is a very very funny place," Dr. Kovac replied, baring his teeth.  
  
Jimmy bit back a laugh, "In the funny 'ha ha' way or the funny 'we're into eating pigs' brains' way?"  
  
Dr. Kovac looked at him as if the humour didn't quite cross the language gap, "Whatever. Just stay away from Abby."  
  
"Fine," Jimmy replied, giving up withy out a fight as he had the distinct feeling that Dr. Kovac was not one to be trifled with. He looked like the sort of guy who would beat up a mugger if he got jumped on a dark street... or was that some rumour he had heard floating around the waiting area.  
  
Dr. Kovac slunk (if that is a verb) out of the Lounge and Jimmy was left, breathing heavily, in the traquility of the doctor's inner sanctum.  
  
***  
  
"Oh my God!"  
  
"It's him."  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"Positive."  
  
"Say something, then."  
  
"Alright, alright!"  
  
Tracy looked up as he sensed a woman at his side, and sense he had developed a long time ago. Standing next to him was a tall woman with short dark hair and an inquisitive smile, she was wearing blue scrubs and had the look of a curious velocorapter about her. Tracy was paying for the coffee he had bought for Jing-Mei, but that didn't stop him from striking up a sparklingly witty conversation with the attractive medic.  
  
"Hey honey," he drawled.  
  
She was slightly taken aback by his bluntness, "Excuse me for asking, but are you on TV?"  
  
"Tracy Morgan," he said, picking up her hand and planting a kiss on it. "You probably recognise me from Saturday Night Live."  
  
The woman in pink scrubs behind her friend giggled: "I told you."  
  
Tracy beamed at his good luck: these two women were obviously hot for him. "And what might you two lovely ladies be called?"  
  
"I might be called Shirley," answered the one in blue scrubs.  
  
"And I'm Lily," replied her friend.  
  
"Well Miss Shirley and Miss Lily, would you like a drink?" Tracy asked, liking the life of a celebrity very very much.  
  
Shirley and Lily smiled at each other. "Sure." They chorused, fluttering their eyelids.  
  
Tracy grinned to himself: this day had taken a unexpected turn for the better.  
  
"Oh my god!" cried Randi. "I thought I heard I rumor that a celebrity was here and the rumor was true! I'm Randi Fronzac , number one fan!"   
  
Tracy held out his hand. "Nice to meet you. Would you like to sit down here with all my new friends?" He smiled and all the girls he was with swooned.   
  
"I'd love to!" Randi pulled up a chair and joined the conversation.   
  
Tracy looked around at all the women. "1, 2, 3, 4. Not bad!" He said quietly to himself.   
  
****  
  
Meanwhile Jimmy was visiting Chris. His surgery went fine and he'd be able to perform in next weeks show.   
  
"So what have you been doing this whole time?" Chris asked.   
  
"Well let's see." Jimmy said. "I lost Tracy to a female Asian doctor and I got threatened by a Croatian doctor. Not a very good day."   
  
"That sucks. I, on the other hand, have been treated like royalty!" Chris said excitedly. "When I told them I was a celebrity, I had the best surgeons do my surgery, a nice curly redheaded one I might say. And I got the best room, good food, and a sponge bath from a hot nurse! I like hospitals!"  
  
Jimmy gave Chris a weird look. "Okay, sure dude. You get some rest." He turned to leave and as he walked out the door he ran into Abby.   
  
"Hey Jimmy!" she said cheerfully.  
  
"I'm not supposed to see you." He said, and he scooted off in the other direction.   
  
"Says who?"   
  
"Says Dr. Kovac."   
  
"Oh really? So he's telling you who you can and can't see now? What a loser! How dare he treat one of my friends like that?" Abby said. "We'll show him! Come on Jimmy!" Abby grabbed his hand and pulled him along with her. Jimmy had an excited look on his face.   
  
"Oh Abby you rebel!" He joked. "Did I ever tell you what a turn-on that was?"   
  
"Please."   
  
***  
  
"Hey! Kovac!" Abby yelled. She had dragged Jimmy down to the ER by the hand.   
  
"What? Hey!" He looked at Jimmy. "I told you to stay away from Abby!"   
  
"Sorry, she just took me by the balls and I couldn't resist." Jimmy giggled at his own joke. "Balls, hehehe!" He had an adolescent tone in his voice and a goofy look on his face.   
  
"Don't tell Jimmy to leave me alone. He didn't do anything!" Abby said.   
  
"And just what are you going to do about it?" Dr. Kovac asked, crossing his arms.   
  
"This." Abby put her arms around Jimmy's neck and planted a passionate kiss on his lips.   
  
Jimmy stood in total shock as Abby pressed her lips against his. Eventually he came to his senses and reciprocated whole-heartedly, adding a few suave pecks on her neck for full effect as they broke apart after many moments of heated, if not slightly orchestrated, embrace.  
  
When they looked up, there was no-one to be seen, and Jimmy thought he saw Luka turn into an Exam Room, bashing his fist on the door angrily as he went.  
  
"Next time he wants to say I have an insect in my anus, he won't be so quick to speak," Abby said with a small smile on her face.  
  
Jimmy looked at her, bemused. "'Insect in your anus'? Not a very pretty picture, Abby."  
  
"Well, aparently I wasn't very pretty either, so it seems quite fitting, don't you think?" she replied grimly, laughing off the matter.   
  
"He said that?"  
  
"Yuh."  
  
"Now I dislike him even more, and I'm justified in it to boot." Jimmy said to himself, feeling slightly happy that Luka wasn't all-around perfect European sex-god material. "How could he say that?"  
  
"The words came pretty freely from his mouth." Abby admitted, giving him a wry smile. "But the alcohol loosened them up slightly."  
  
"I'd never say you weren't pretty, even if I was totally stoned, ma cherié." Jimmy told her sincerely, taking her hand and planting a chivalrous kiss on it.  
  
Abby laughed to herself, "I think that's the nicest thing anyone's every said to me, Jimmy."  
  
"Well, I try my best," Jimmy replied smiling back at her and then a thought came into his head. He bent down on one knee and took Abby's hand.  
  
"Jimmy?"  
  
He silenced her with a wave of his finger. "My dear fair Abigail, would thou bestow upon me thy greatest honour?"  
  
She looked at him sceptically and with a slightly anxious look, as if she wasn't sure what he was about to do. "What would that be?"  
  
Jimmy kissed her hand again. "I wishest thee would joinest me for a cupeth of coff-ee."  
  
She laughed softly, "As long as you stop speaking in iambic pentameter and adding -eth onto every verb you speak."  
  
He rose from his knee with a little spring and a grin on his face, taking her arm in his. "I'm the luckiest gal in the world."  
  
"Shut up and take me to Doc Magoo's before I change my mind!"   
  
Jimmy wrapped Abby in his arms as he walked her to Doc Magoo's across the street. They were quite a sight as Jimmy was still in his polyester pantsuit and still had some make-up on, where as Abby was wearing scrubs.   
  
Upon entering the little diner, Jimmy noticed Tracy with a menagerie of women by his side.   
  
"Hey isn't that your friend?" Abby asked as she pointed in Tracy's direction.   
  
"Sadly yes." Jimmy walked over to Tracy.   
  
"What's up Jim? Care to join the fun?" Tracy said. "Oh snap! You brought that hot nurse from the ER! Yeah baby!"   
  
"What are you doing?" Jimmy demanded.   
  
"Nothing. What are you doing?" Tracy caressed Jing-Mei's hand. She had been sitting on his lap.   
  
"Tracy, do you remember your wedding?" Jimmy asked.   
  
"WHAT?" said all the girls in unison, including Abby since she didn't know about this either.   
  
"Yeah, your wedding." Jimmy continued. "There was a cake, flowers, music, and oh yeah, your wife!"   
  
"You're married?" said Shirley.   
  
"It's not how it sounds."   
  
"It's exactly how it sounds!" Randi said.   
  
"I'm leaving." Jing-Mei said. "Anyone coming with me?"   
  
Lily, Shirley, Randi and Jing-Mei left with disgusted looks on their faces. Tracy stood up in protest.   
  
"Ladies come on! I didn't mean no harm! Aw, don't do that." Tracy begged.   
  
Before Randi left, however, she dumped a glass of water over Tracy's head. His mascara smeared as he wiped his face. Abby and Jimmy laughed hysterically.   
  
"Now that wasn't very nice. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to the men's room." Tracy said.   
  
"Don't you mean ladies?" Jimmy joked.   
  
"Not funny man."   
******  
  
As Abby and Jimmy talked over coffee, Abby's pager went off.   
  
"The hospital?" asked Jimmy.   
  
"Yeah, but it's surgery." Abby said. "Oh my god!"   
  
"Chris!" Jimmy and Abby said.   
  
Within minutes Abby and Jimmy had reached surgery, Tracey had been left behind trying to sort out the mess that he had gotten himself into with five angry women baying for blood.  
  
"Chris Kattan, I got a page for a Mr. Kattan," Abby said breathlessly to the nurse at the front desk.  
  
The nurse looked extremely irritated, "I want you to take him away, right now!"  
  
"Why what happened?" asked Jimmy, feeling very confused.  
  
The nurse looked at him with an exasperated expression. "Where do I start? I don't want to start and try to recall all the stuff I've had to put up from him. I want you to get him out of here, Abby, and I don't want to see that man again!"  
  
Abby and Jimmy looked at each other, feeling even more confused before they headed off in the direction of the pre-op ward.  
  
Jimmy and Abby headed to pre-op ward with thousands of possibilities in their minds as to why Chris was being a nuisance. When they saw him in soft restraints they knew he had been a bad boy.   
  
"Oh Chris!" Jimmy said. "What did you do to deserve this?"   
  
Chris had a nonchalant look on his face. "I was calmly resting in my bed when I wanted to give an affectionate gesture to the nurses and the red-haired surgeon for taking such good care of me and I guess they took it the wrong way."   
  
"He grabbed my ass!" Elizabeth Corday said as she walked over to Abby and Jimmy. "For goodness sake's I am a married woman!"   
  
Abby rolled her eyes. Jimmy did the same. "Honestly, I can't take you or Tracy anywhere!"   
  
Elizabeth continued. "He's been pawing at my nurses all day, and when he made a pass at me, I couldn't help but put him in restraints. He's ready to be discharged. Take him home."   
  
Abby nodded. "I'll go get his dress. It's down in the ER." Abby chuckled to herself and then remembered Jimmy still looked like a woman. "Sorry, guys."   
  
***  
  
It was quite late at night when Jimmy, Tracy and Chris finally left County General. Abby wheeled a still weak Chris out to a taxi in a wheelchair and he looked a lot like a infeeble old lady.   
  
As Tracy helped Chris into the car, he told him about his adventures with some of the female staff.   
  
"Dude, you got four girls to have coffee with you?" Chris asked.   
  
"You know it!" Tracy replied.   
  
"Score!" Tracy and Chris slapped each other five.   
  
  
Jimmy ignored his friends and turned to Abby. "Well I guess this is it."   
  
"Yeah." Abby felt tears in her eyes.   
  
"Oh Abby don't cry! Please, you'll make me cry, and then my mascara will run!" Jimmy said holding her in his arms.   
  
Abby giggled. "Come back and visit me when you can."   
  
"What about Dr. Kovac?" Jimmy looked past Abby into the hospital to see Dr. Kovac giving him a dirty look.   
  
"Who cares?" Abby said. "I have you now."   
  
"Yeah." Jimmy gave Abby a long and passionate kiss.   
  
"Hey!" yelled Chris. "Get a room!"   
  
"Yeah!" Tracy yelled. "Quit making babies and let's go!"   
  
Jimmy pulled away from Abby. He got into the taxi.   
  
"Bye Jimmy! I'll miss you!" Abby said, waving her hand.   
  
"Good night and have a pleasant tomorrow!" Jimmy said. The taxi pulled away.   
  
*******  
The End  
*******  
  
Feedback, as always is appreciated!  
annadelamico@yahoo.co.uk  
carebear1025@juno.com 


	4. Emergency Rouge

Title: Emergency Rouge  
Series: 'School Ties' - Part 5   
Fandoms: ER/MR  
Authors: Carrie Verkman & Charlotte Rodwell  
Genre: Humour/Tragedy AU  
Category: MR: C/S ER: LKo/JC  
Rating: PG-13   
Set: After Satine's death.  
  
Summary: A glass too much of Absinthe and Christian dreams that Satine is still alive and that they find a place where she can be cured of her illness.  
  
Notes: ER/Moulin Rouge might sound weird to you - but, honestly, have you ever watched a Baz Luhrmann film?  
  
  
'SCHOOL TIES V'  
  
'EMERGENCY ROUGE'  
  
  
PARIS 1900  
  
There was a boy.   
  
He sat upon bare floorboards in a small garret above the streets of Montmatre; his knees pressed to his chest, a bottle of green alcohol in his hand as birds flew in the spring breeze that blew across the city of Paris. The city at the heart of the bohemian revolution he had journeyed to a year ago to become a writer. A city of culture. A city of beauty. A city of love.  
  
Above all things, this boy believed in love. Perfect love, true love, eternal love. The love that knows no limits, no rules, no obstacles. The love which would live forever.  
  
Papers fluttered about his feet, some with patterns of random words stitched upon their fabric. He looked up, his gaze falling on his typewriter, two empty bottles of absinthe and a sheaf of papers. Their story. He had to write their story. He'd promised.  
  
He felt his whole body begin to shake with the force of his grief. He swallowed hard and bit back the tears and cries of despair which threatened to rip forth from his mouth. His eyes were carried to the bottle of absinthe in his hand. La Fee Verte seemed to coax his mouth nearer the neck of the bottle as his gaze rested upon the bottle of green. The bottle that could cure all his worries make him forget who he was for a moment. A moment away from his miserable torture was worth everything to him. A moment when he could forget he was Christian, that she had been Satine, that he had ever come to Paris and the Moulin Rouge.   
  
A sweet escape from his pain, or else a lifetime of insanity for his obsessive love of alcohol. Toulouse could not conquer his lust for absinthe, and this young writer had not a care in the world for the path he had placed himself upon.  
  
He lifted the bottle to his mouth and drank the stinging green liquid, choking on its intoxicating strength. The bottle fell from his hand and his head rolled back against the wall, his eyes settling upon a picture of Satine. He started to cry once more and soon his grief had carried him into hazy visions of a strange city of lights and tall buildings, of clubs more exotic than the Moulin Rouge and theatres displaying spectacles more spectacular than Spectacular Spectacular! Spectacular!  
  
"Alcohol, my permanent accessory," he murmured to himself. He saw Satine, her head thrown back as she released her final breath, blood on her lips and her eyes wide and glassy. Christian could not contain his heartache any longer and he let a long moan of pain flow from his mouth. "I love you more, than I did the week before I discovered alcohol."  
  
Then the images ceased to play in his head and blackness muffled his thoughts.  
  
Christian let his body fall to the cold hard floor of his garret. His head felt too heavy for his body and he toppled over, drunk on feelings of grief and too much absinthe.   
  
"Alcohol your songs resolve like my life never will." mumbled Christian. His eyelids closed in defeat; his breathing slowed and his body succumbed to exhaustion and deep sleep.   
  
Soon Christian was dreaming. He saw bright lights, colossal buildings, trains that were elevated on tracks above the streets. He heard loud voices saw mysterious carriages that moved without horses. Christian saw some more of the funny carriages, but these ones had blue and red flashing lights, and flew through the streets in a hurry to get somewhere quickly.   
  
Christian struggled to open his heavy eyelids to get that unusual image out of his mind. But when he did open his eyes, the image had not changed, and soon Christian found himself in an unfamiliar world called Chicago.   
  
***  
  
CHICAGO 2002  
  
Christian looked about him, his head reeling with the after-effects of too much absinthe as he took in the world he had fallen into. It was night-time, yet the sky was filled with more lights than the garden at the Moulin Rouge, and voices rang through the clear night air as snowflakes poured onto his head, as if were being iced like a cake. Horseless carriages sped past him on a smooth wide road, their horns blaring impatiently. People rushed past him as he sat on the pavement, the cold wetness of the freshly settled snow seeping through his clothes. His head rang with the barrage of sound assailing his mind and he placed his hands over his ears to quieten the cacophony. He closed his eyes against the bright lights and the strange visions about him, willing himself back to his garret and his misery and his endless glasses of alcohol.  
  
"Christian?" He felt a soft hand rest itself upon his shoulder at the muffled address. Christian opened his eyes and let his hands fall from his ears. "Qu'est-ce que tu as fait, eh?  
  
He closed his eyes once more, and tried to clear his mind of the ethereal vision in front of him. He couldn't let him do this to himself, he had to let go and stop torturing himself. But the image of her was imprinted on his retina, etched upon his memory by the branding iron of his love, so that he knew that her face would be forever with him, no matter how hard he tried to forget her.  
  
"Christian, ca va?" The clear effervescent voice echoed in his ears again and he opened his eyes once more. They settled on her as she bent over him, her pale face worried with a frown of concern.   
  
Christian's eyes settled on her and he forgot his garret, he forgot his misery, he forgot the alcohol and the Moulin Rouge. For there she was, her perfume settling like a hazy aura about her as she extended a small hand to him. He smiled at her and forgot everything except her. He forgot the strangeness of the new world surrounding them; he forgot that the clothes they wore were different in every way to the ones of their time; he forgot every sadness connected to her death. "Satine," he breathed, her name falling from his lips like a breeze playing about leaves on branches. "Satine."  
  
She smiled back at him, and helped him to his feet. "You slipped on the ice again, I told you to be more careful."  
  
"I'm fine," Christian replied, his eyes never leaving her face, as if he were afraid that she might disappear like a fairy if he did not concentrate upon her. However, at that moment, he could not imagine her ever leaving him.   
  
Satine gave a small laugh and planted a kiss upon his cheek. "T'es trop maladroit, mon cher," she chastised him, taking his hand.  
  
Christian laughed with her and then felt a sharp pain echo through his skull. He put a hand to his head and frowned. "I think I hit my head on the way down."  
  
"Let me see," Satine replied, placing her hand where he indicated and running a hand through his thick hair. She took her hand away and showed him a smear of blood upon her fingers. "Oh, darling, you were unconscious for a while back there. We should take you to the doctor. You might need stitches."  
  
Christian shook his head, "At this time of night?"  
  
"There's a hospital just around the corner," Satine insisted, wrapping an arm about him and pulling her coat around her tightly. "It won't take long, Christian. If you're worried about getting to the theatre on time, I have an understudy and you have a stage manager. Don't be stubborn - we're going and that is that."  
  
Christian hugged Satine to his side and he kissed her on the cheek. "What would I do without you?"  
  
"You would probably freeze to death, my darling. I've never seen anyone walk so slowly on a cold night," Satine replied, making for the hospital in a jog. "Allons-y! And don't slip!"  
  
Setting off after her, Christian broke into a sprint and laughed, forgetting everything except Satine.  
  
Upon reaching the hospital entrance, Christian playfully grabbed a handful of snow from the ground and tossed it at Satine. She squealed and tossed a handful back at him. Soon they were engaged in a full-blown snowball fight. Satine's laugh cut through the air like beautiful music. Christian smiled at her childlike acts. He loved when they could just sit back and act like children without any cares in the world. Christian was about to throw another ball of snow at Satine when he saw her bent over and panting heavily.   
  
"Satine?" Asked Christian. "My love, are you all right?"   
  
Satine gasped for air. "I just got dizzy all of a sudden."   
  
Christian took her by the hand, leading her inside the hospital. "Let's have a doctor look at you. You've been in the cold for too long."   
  
Satine nodded and followed Christian into the large white building. Christian looked around and was nearly blinded by the bright lights. He saw people running around, calling out orders, and rushing to one place after another. He and Satine were nearly knocked over by a gurney that was being pushed in. All the new sights, sounds, and smells reminded Christian once again that he was still in a unfamiliar world. It was almost too much for him to take in.   
  
Christian's thoughts were interrupted by Satine pulling on his arm. "Christian, what is the matter with you today? It's as if you're having hallucinations."   
  
Christian inwardly remarked upon the irony of the statement; however, he didn't speak a word on the subject.  
  
Satine looked around for the reception desk, but a European doctor called out her name and walked over to her right away.   
  
"Satine!"   
  
"Luka!"   
  
Satine broke into a wide smile at the sight of the tall, dark and handsome man. He was wearing a white coat and he was beaming at her with a toothy grin. "How are you? It's been a long time, Satine," he said with a knowing look.  
  
"Well, it has, hasn't it," Satine replied, taking Christian by the hand. "Christian, this is Luka Kovac, we appeared in a amateur dramatics production at our school Gilbert and Sullivan Society together."  
  
Christian smiled warmly at the tall man and shook his hand. "Pleased to meet you."  
  
"Luka, this is Christian Lawrence. We got married last year," Satine said, a contented warmth in her voice.  
  
Luka smiled at the two of them genuinely. "Congratulations! How did you meet?"  
  
Satine supplied the information freely, that she and Christian had met at the theatre where she had appeared in a revival of Singin' in the Rain. It had been her last night in the production and Christian had come to meet the theatre's proprietor, Harry Zidler, about an idea he had for a show. Christian watched her as she recounted their history with a faint sense of bewilderment. He had a feeling that somehow the events she recalled were ones he had never experienced, that somehow they were different to the way things had actually been. He could not, however, remember the way he presumed their meeting to have happened.  
  
"So Christian wrote this wonderful show and Harry put it on for us," Satine smiled warmly at Christian for a moment and then turned back to Luka, "you have to see it, it's spectacular."  
  
"Maybe when I finish my shift, eh?" Luka replied with a mock-exasperated hangdog expression. "I've been on for 36 hours, I need some light entertainment. What brings you here?"   
  
Satine turned to Christian and indicated to his head, "Christian slipped on some ice and cut his head-"  
  
"It's nothing-" Christian protested, unwilling to let Satine make it out to be bigger than it actually was. He put a hand to where he had hit his head and winced as a flash of pain flared through his skull.  
  
"You're bleeding, Christian," Satine replied with a glare, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Be a good boy and let Luka take a look."  
  
Christian grew slightly red and tried one last time to protest, "But-"  
  
Satine kissed him on the cheek. "No buts, darling. We're not leaving until you get that seen to."  
  
He smiled at her and broke out spontaneously into song. "I would do anything for love, but I won't do that."  
  
Her stern look melted and she pushed him towards Luka playfully. "Oh, why can't you behave?" Satine sang, a smile pulling on her lips. "Why can't you behave?"  
  
"Hey now, what's the matter with you," Christian said, looking slightly hurt. He smiled at Satine and he sang out again, "I just wanna have fun, ye-ah."  
  
Satine smiled, "Oh why can't you be good?" Christian pulled a face and she laughed. "And do just as you should?" she continued, her voice as clear as crystal in the busy halls of the Emergency Room.  
  
"Cos, I just wanna be loved by you, just you, nobody else but you," Christian sang back, drawing a bemused smile from Luka. "I wanna be loved by you alone. Boop-boop-bo-boop - ooh."  
  
He grinned at her endearingly and she wrapped her arm around his waist with a terse laugh. "Don't try and change the subject, Christian. You're getting stitches."  
  
"Damn."  
  
  
Luka had settled Christian and Satine in the ER's suture room. Christian's eyes explored the tiny and cluttered room with some amazement. He had never seen so much stuff packed into one room.   
  
"Do you guys actually use all these things?" Christian said.   
  
"Of course. You can never be too prepared." Luka said. "Geez, Christian, this is a pretty deep gash. You sure you slipped on the ice, or were you blinded by your wife's beauty?"   
  
Satine and Christian laughed. "I did slip. I guess I've never experienced a winter like this before."   
  
"Baby it's cold outside." Satine sang.   
  
"I'd rather roast chestnuts over an open fire." Christian said, flinching as Luka administered some Lidocane to his forehead.   
  
Satine rolled her eyes. "Baby."   
  
Luka chuckled. "So Satine, are you doing anything besides this spectacular play?"   
  
"Well in my spare time I play housewife to Christian," she explained. "Then I-"   
  
Satine fell to the floor in a dead faint. She gasped for air. Luka asked Christian to hold a piece a gauze to his face as he rushed to Satine's aid.   
  
"Satine? Are you alright?" Christian stood up, but sat down after a wave of dizziness took over him from too much blood loss.   
  
"Christian sit down. I'll get another doctor." Luka left and then returned with a younger doctor with brown hair, along with a gurney and a nurse.   
  
"What happened?" asked the younger doctor with the boyish good looks.   
  
"She just fainted. Pulse is weak." Luka said.   
  
"Is she going to be all right?" Christian asked worriedly.   
  
"Dr. Carter is one of best doctors. She's in good hands. Now let's finish fixing you up." Luka started to suture Christian's head. Christian had a worried look on his face. He was so afraid for Satine.   
  
A few minutes later, Dr. Carter came back in the suture room. He had a serious look on his face. Christian, who was all sewn up, stood up. "Well?"   
  
"I need to talk to you about something Mr. Lawrence." Dr. Carter said. "Why don't you sit down?"   
  
Christian sat back upon the gurney, keeping his eyes fixed on the young doctor, an uneasy feeling in his stomach as he saw the grave look on his face. "What is it?"  
  
Dr. Carter drew a chair up alongside Christian and tossed his stethoscope around his neck before sighing and running a hand through his hair. Finally, he looked up at Christian and spoke in a low voice. "Mr. Lawrence, I performed a quick physical examination on your wife-"  
  
"You don't need to skirt the subject," Christian said softly, catching his breath as he tried not to imagine the many worst case scenarios flashing through his mind. He swallowed and wrung his clammy hands, "I mean, whatever you have to say, don't... I mean..."  
  
With a small cough, Dr. Carter scooted closer to Christian. "Mrs. Lawrence is displaying the early symptoms of TB."  
  
"TB?" Christian echoed, his blood-drained face blanching at the sound of the unfamiliar abbreviation's deadly resonance.  
  
"Tuberculosis," Dr. Carter repeated, so that Christian understood.  
  
"Ah," Christian mumbled, nodding slowly. He felt his eyes water and he swallowed to clear the lump in his throat. "Satine has consumption?"  
  
Dr. Carter nodded and handed Christian a clipboard onto which were held some official papers. "Mr. Lawrence, this condition is highly treatable. The survival rate is excellent, fortunately it isn't far advanced and your wife could be cured in a matter of weeks."  
  
"Oh," Christian breathed, a small laugh being exhaled with his sigh. A wave of relief swept across his face. "She'll be alright, won't she?"  
  
"Yes, very much so," the doctor replied with a smile. "There are a few more tests I have to order, but I am positive that they will only reiterate my initial diagnosis. You have nothing to worry about."  
  
Christian broke into an uncomfortable smile. He wiped his clammy forehead with handkerchief from his trouser pocket and ran a hand through his hair before looking at the doctor again. "May I see her?"  
  
Dr. Carter nodded, "In a few minutes. She's just about to go to radiology, so you'll have to wait till she comes back." He paused, "Mr. Lawrence, your wife is pregnant."  
  
Christian looked stunned. He froze for a moment before he spoke again. "Will Satine's condition affect the baby?"  
  
"No," Dr. Carter replied. "However, we'll have to be careful about the medication we give her. Is this your first child?"  
  
"Yes," Christian breathed, an amazed smile spreading across his mouth. "I have to see her, we're going to have a baby. I'm going to be a father! I have to see Satine."  
  
Dr. Carter smiled at him and pushed Christian back onto the gurney as he tried to stand up. "Not yet, you don't! I still have to ask you some questions."  
  
"What about?"  
  
"Mr. Lawrence, tuberculosis is a very contagious disease."  
  
Christian's face fell into a look of anger, and sadness. "Are you saying, that I could have possibly given my wife TB?"   
  
Dr. Carter shook his head. "No Mr. Lawrence, I'm not accusing you of giving your wife this illness."   
  
"It seemed like you were. I have never been in a situation where I have caught some disease and then given it to my wife!" Christian was getting annoyed with all the medical jargon. He just wanted to see his wife. His Satine. The one who was carrying his baby.   
  
"Mr. Lawrence, I'm not insinuating anything." Dr. Carter explained. "Do you know where she could have gotten it from?"   
  
Christian thought long and hard. His thoughts drifted to Montmartre where he first met Satine at the Moulin Rouge. His heart longed to be back in a familiar place. Soon Christian felt homesick for France.   
  
"Mr. Lawrence?" Asked Dr. Carter.   
  
"Satine used to be a dancer. At this place called the Moulin Rouge. Maybe she caught something from someone there, I don't know." Christian said quietly.   
  
"Okay." Dr. Carter said. "Well the only reason why I said it was contagious is because you may have been exposed. And we should test you just in case. You don't want your baby to get it do you?"   
  
Christian shook his head. He let Dr. Carter do the test and then Christian went to see Satine, who was resting comfortably in Trauma One. She was hooked up to IV tubes and a monitor but seemed content and was happy to see Christian.   
  
"Oh love, are you all right?" Christian kissed her forehead. "Dr. Carter told me about the Tuberculosis and then he did a test on me and then-"  
  
Satine cut him off. "Christian, I am fine. I feel much better now. Don't worry, the baby and me are all right."   
  
"Our baby," Christian said, placing a hand on the tiny bulge that was his baby.   
  
"Oh Christian, I was so happy when I found out! I couldn't wait to tell you!" Satine said, still smiling. "It's going to be a little girl!"   
  
"You found out already?" Christian asked with wide eyes. "I'm going to have a little girl?"  
  
"Yes!" Satine reached over and hugged Christian. Christian caressed the back of her head and kissed her.   
  
"Thank God you're going to be okay," Christian said. "Now we have nothing else to worry about."   
  
At that moment, Dr. Kovac came back in. "Christian? Dr. Carter gave me the results of your TB test."   
  
Christian looked up at Dr. Kovac, a contented smile on his face. "Sorry, what did you say?"  
  
"Your TB test came back," Dr. Kovac repeated.  
  
Satine looked at Christian and he gave her hand a squeeze. "Yes?"  
  
"It's negative," the doctor replied. Satine sighed with relief and smiled at Christian. "However, that doesn't mean that Christian won't develop the disease. He's been exposed to you, Satine, for a long time. Christian, you will have to come back in a weeks time and we'll see if the TB presents itself before we write everything off completely."  
  
"Oh," Christian replied, his face falling slightly. "Oh well, its nothing to worry about I suppose," he smiled at Satine and brushed his hand against her cheek. "I'll take you home and ring Zidler and tell him to put the understudy on until you're well enough... oh, the baby!"  
  
"Don't worry about the show." Satine smiled up at her husband weakly. "I'm sure Zidler will find someone to play the part."  
  
"Yes, well he'll have to, because you're going to have a baby daughter, Satine."  
  
Christian smiled at her broadly and she replied. "We're going to have a baby daughter, Christian. Together."  
  
Dr. Kovac coughed and the couple looked away from each other. "You can't leave the hospital, Satine."  
  
"Quoi?" Her surprise was evident from the shocked way in which she reverted to speaking French.  
  
"TB is contagious. You will remain in solitary isolation for the next few weeks until the disease has been cured," Dr. Kovac replied, coming towards them and examining some of the monitors by Satine's bed.  
  
"But I can visit, yes?" Christian asked with a frown.  
  
"Yes, but you won't be able to come into Satine's room. Your lungs may be weakened already, Christian, and you may catch TB very easily from Satine."  
  
Satine and Christian looked at one another with a quiet sorrow they had known a long time ago, though it seemed to be a sorrow belonging to a different world, not just a different time.   
  
"Don't leave me this way," Satine breathed. "I can't survive, without your sweet love. Oh baby, don't leave me this way."  
  
"And there's no river too wide, no mountain to high," Christian sang softly, "sing out this song and I'll be there at your side. Storm clouds may gather and stars may collide."  
  
Silence surrounded them once more, and then Satine sang haltingly. "Strange dear, but true dear, when I'm close to you dear, the stars fill the sky-"  
  
"So in love with you am I..." Christian finished. He smiled at her and kissed her forehead. "You're just too good to be true, can't take my eyes off you. You'd be like heaven to touch," Christian smiled and stroked her cheek, "I want to hold you so much..."  
  
"At long last love has arrived," Satine sang back, "and I thank God I'm alive. You're just too good to be true, can't take my eyes off you."  
  
Christian smiled and stood up from where he sat on a chair by her side. "Pardon the way that I stare, there's nothing else to compare, the sight of you leaves me weak, there are no words left to speak," he sang with his arms stretched out towards her, "but if you feel how I feel, please let me know that it's real-"  
  
"It's real," Satine whispered.  
  
Christian smiled at her, "You're just too good to be true, can't take my eyes off you!" He flung his arms to his side and sang loudly and with clarity, "I love you baby, and if it's quite alright, I need you baby to warm a lonely night, I love you baby, trust in me when I say... oh pretty baby, don't bring me down I pray, oh pretty baby, now that I found this day and let me love you baby, let me love you!"  
  
Satine laughed and sang, "You'd be like heaven to touch, I want to hold you so much."  
  
Christian took her hand. "So much."  
  
"So much," she sang softly.  
  
"So much..." he bent down and kissed her hair, he then ran a hand over Satine's stomach. "How wonderful life is, now you're in the world..." Christian and Satine sang quietly, thinking of their daughter.  
  
***  
  
"Hey baby, hey baby, hey!" Christian sang, as he leaned over Satine's stomach. "Girls say, boys say, hey baby, hey baby hey!"   
  
Satine yawned. "Don't you think you've sang enough to my stomach?"   
  
Christian looked up at Satine. "I'm trying to take advantage of all the time I get to spend with you before you go into isolation."  
  
"You'll still be able to see me." Satine said. "You just wont be able to get too close."   
  
Christian nodded. His heart ached at the fact that his Satine and his baby would be isolated from him.   
  
"You shouldn't worry so much Christian." Satine said, rubbing her fingers through his messy hair, being careful not to touch his stitches. "Dr. Kovac is a great doctor, and he's taking very good care of me. Back in Europe when we were in plays together, he was still in medical school and once I fell and broke my leg. Luka fixed me up right away and soon I was up doing the can-can again!"   
  
Christian breathed a heavy sigh of relief. He figured Dr. Kovac was as good as Satine said he was. "He seems like a decent man."   
  
"Oh he is. He's lovely person and quite the gentleman," Satine said.   
  
"What is that supposed to mean?" Christian stood up. Satine pushed him back down.   
  
"Nothing!"   
  
"Well it doesn't seem like nothing. Luka seems to be a wonder boy compared to me!" Christian angrily walked out of the Trauma room looking for Dr. Kovac. Satine called after him, but she was too weak to yell and couldn't grab his attention.  
  
Christian felt an unsettling wave of anger wash over him, a kind of jealously reminiscent of something that had happened before, in that other place. He felt his eyes sting as he rushed down the hall, looking for the man Satine had talked of so fondly.  
  
"Excuse me," Christian said to a nurse who pushed past him with a box. "Excuse me, where's Dr. Kovac?"  
  
The nurse glanced over to the stairs. "He went up to the roof for a trauma."  
  
"Oh," Christian replied, his head reeling from the flood of adrenaline still surging through his veins. "Will he be back soon?" His voice softened from one of firm resolve to a tone of mere polite inquisition over the space of a few seconds as he realised how irrationally he was acting.  
  
"What patient?" asked the nurse.  
  
"Sorry?"  
  
"Which patient are you with?" she clarified, looking at Christian with a strange gaze.  
  
Christian took a breath, "Satine Lawrence, my wife... she has tuberculosis."  
  
"Oh, she's just been cleared for transport," the nurse said with a smile, leading Christian by the arm back to the trauma room.  
  
"Transport where?" asked Christian.  
  
"To the isolation wards upstairs," the nurse replied. "Would you like a few minutes with her before we take her up?"  
  
"Please," he replied. She smiled back and pushed the door open for him. Christian slipped through into the trauma room and saw Satine, her eyes wet and red gazing at him with a look of disbelief. He approached her without saying a word, the confusion in his eyes saying all he wished to communicate.  
  
"Stop overreacting," she said. "You even get suspicious when I paint my nails. It's definitely distracting, the way you dramatise every small detail."  
  
Christian shook his head and clenched his teeth. He was about to speak when she sang. "Don't freak out until you know the facts..."  
  
"Don't speak," Christian sang back. "In know just what you're saying, so please stop explaining. Don't tell me 'cos it hurts. No, don't speak," he sang bitterly, "I don't need your reasons, don't tell me 'cos it hurts."  
  
"Don't freak out until you know the facts," Satine sang more forcefully. "Relax! Don't be stupid, you know I love you. Don't be ridiculous, you know I need you. Don't be absurd, you know I want you. Don't be impossible!"  
  
"Don't speak..."   
  
Christian's voice faltered as Satine sat up and winced before singing quietly: "I'm mad about you, can't live without you, I'm crazy 'bout you - so don't be stupid... you know I love you..."  
  
Satine took his hand and held it close to her heart. Christian could feel her heart beat quietly and steadily beneath her skin. She gazed into his eyes and there was a look shared between them that communicated what could not be said with a thousand of the most beautifully crafted words. "You're going soon," Christian whispered. "I won't see you for a long time... I don't know what I'm going to do." He sang softly, "I can't live, if living is without you."  
  
"The show, Christian," Satine smiled. "You have the show."  
  
Christian could feel his heart failing with a sort of despair, "But I won't have you."  
  
A tear fell down Satine's cheek and she let it fall onto his hand unchecked, "You'll always have me, cherie."  
  
"Sing out the song and I'll be there at your side," Christian reminded her. "I'll love you until the end of time."  
  
"Come what may," she said.  
  
"Come what may," he whispered.  
  
Satine smiled and stroked his hand. "Your love keeps me alive," she sang in no more than a whisper. "You're all I need to survive, I've got you by my side... so I'm holding on, I'm feeling strong, baby you're the one, for all my life. I'm holding out, there ain't no doubt, I can't life without you all my life." She started to cry, Christian wiping the tears away with his fingertips. "I'm holding on to love to save my life."  
  
"All you need is love," Christian said.  
  
"Wise words from a young boy," Satine replied.  
  
There was a knock at the door.  
  
Christian jumped when he heard the knock at the door. It was Dr. Kovac, who had returned from the roof. "Excuse me; Satine? We are ready to take you up to the isolation ward now."   
  
"I'm ready." Satine said. Christian had a sad look on his face. She smiled and softly sang, "Come what may..."   
  
Christian held onto her hand as she was being wheeled away and then lost her grip. He couldn't move his feet to follow after her. In a way he felt that he was being isolated from Satine, not the other way around. Christian looked down the hall way as Dr. Kovac and a nurse took her away.   
  
"Baby come back!" Christian said, finally finding the strength to move his feet and go after her. "I thought that we would last forever!"   
  
Satine waved her hand to Christian. "Don't speak..."   
  
"But now you're gone, I can't go on. I'm all alone." Christian sang. "Tonight I'm only thinking of you. Feeling sorry for myself is all I can do. Baby come back!"   
  
Satine waved her hand again and blew a kiss to Christian. He felt tears go down his face as the elevator doors closed. And that was it. Satine was gone. Christian stood there in front of the elevator doors for a long time, bewildered as to why his wife and child had to be taken away.   
  
Sometime later, Christian wasn't sure how much time had passed; Dr. Kovac lightly touched him on the shoulder and said, "Satine, would like to see you. She's worried about you."   
  
Christian nodded and headed up to see Satine.   
  
As Christian rode upstairs in the elevator he felt his mind cloud and a bright light blinded him making him stumble back against the cool metal wall of the compartment. A searing pain across his forehead chased the vague feeling from his mind and he felt an arm reach out to steady him. Christian opened his eyes and found Dr. Kovac was there, steadying him.  
  
"Don't worry, a lot of first time fathers go slightly faint when their wives are in labour," he said with a smile. "I should know, I fainted both times my wife gave birth and I'm a doctor!"  
  
Christian smiled back weakly, feeling overwhelmed and confused, as though time had passed leaving him behind. As the doors opened, he found himself being led into the maternity ward and he could hear the sound Satine crying out in pain.   
  
Christian felt his heart plummet and he ran in the direction of her voice. "Satine?"  
  
"Christian?" she called back with another moan.  
  
"I'm here, I'm here!" he replied as Dr. Kovac let him into the delivery room where Satine was lying on her back in a surgical gown, he auburn curl dampened with perspiration and her delicate features tormented by the pains of her contractions.  
  
Satine took her husband's hand and gazed up into his face. "Darling," Christian whispered, stroking her hair back from her face. "I'm here."  
  
She gasped for breath as another contraction assailed her. "I need you to push," said the doctor who was waiting to deliver the baby. "After three, okay, Satine?"  
  
"Okay," Satine replied, she grasped Christian's hand with even more force. "Help me through this."  
  
"Okay," Christian replied, not knowing what to, though realising that the blood was draining from his face at the thought of their baby being born.  
  
"One..."  
  
Satine drew in a sharp breath.  
  
"Two..."  
  
She crushed Christian's knuckles.  
  
"Three... push!"  
  
Satine screamed as she pushed and increased her grip on Christian's hand. He held her shoulders up as she arched up from the bed.   
  
"And keep going..."  
  
Christian smiled at Satine, "Come on darling, push... breath in, out, in..."  
  
"I know how to breathe!" she snapped at him.  
  
He didn't say anything after that, but his hand felt as if it would never recover into the shape it had once been.  
  
Then suddenly the sound of a baby's cries filled the room. "Keep pushing," the doctor reminded her.  
  
Satine complied and threw a glance at Christian, "Sorry, darling."  
  
"You're doing so well, Satine," he replied.   
  
The doctor smiled, "You can stop now." Satine collapsed back onto the bed and Christian stroked her forehead as she panted from her exertions.  
  
"Here's your beautiful daughter," the doctor said, as she placed a bundle of sheets in Satine's arms. Christian first caught sight of a tiny hand waving for help from amongst the waves of material surrounding it. Satine fell back into Christian's arms and touched the angelic face of their daughter with her for finger. She had clear blue sapphire eyes and a fine mouth, which, when she saw her parents, bowed into a small smile.  
  
Tears streamed down from Satine's eyes and Christian stared down into the face of their daughter, transfixed by the cherubic apparition before him. He was a father; he and Satine had a family.  
  
"She's beautiful," he breathed, smiling in delight as their daughter curled her miniature hand around one of his fingers. "She's perfect. Just like you."  
  
Satine tore her gaze away from her child and her eyes melted into Christian's. "I never thought I would have a child," she whispered, tears threatening to break her speech, "I never believed I could have a child with the man I loved."  
  
She broke down into floods of tears, a smile fixed on her lips as Christian drew her into an embrace she couldn't help be absorbed by.  
  
Christian's eyes could not be adverted from his brand new baby girl. He couldn't believe something that him and Satine had created was finally here, was finally a little person for them to hold. Christian reached out to touch his baby's tiny delicate hand, and the baby grasped his large index finger in response.   
  
"Satine look at that!" Christian said excitedly, with a slight chuckle. "She's got my finger! Oh, I know she'll be a troublemaker for sure."   
  
Satine nodded and smiled. "She got that from you I bet." Satine handed the baby to Christian and for the first time he held his little girl. Satine sighed and lay back on the bed in exhaustion.   
  
"Are you all right, darling?" Asked Christian, bouncing the baby in his arms.   
  
"I'm fine. I'm tired, but fine." Satine said. "Don't worry about me. Shall we give our little bundle of joy a name?"   
  
"Amelie." Christian said. "Amelie Lawrence. It has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"   
  
"I love it!" Satine said. "And I love you and our daughter." She reached over to kiss Christian. At that moment, Dr. Kovac entered carrying a bright bouquet of flowers.   
  
"Oh, excuse me." Dr. Kovac said upon seeing them embrace.   
  
"Please come in Luka. I want you to meet Amelie." Satine said.   
  
Christian was a bit annoyed by Luka's intrusion, but it gave him a chance to show off his baby. After all, Christian didn't think he was that bad, he took great care of Satine for him.   
  
"She's a lovely girl. Christian, you must be very proud." Luka said, feeling a bit of jealousy and sadness due to his own children he lost.   
  
"Thank you." Christian and Luka engaged in small talk. They did not notice that Satine had drifted off into sleep.   
  
"I guess our boring conversation put Satine to sleep." Christian joked. Dr. Kovac looked over at her and the look on his face became very grave.  
  
"Her breathing is laboured." He said.   
  
"Well s-she just h-had a baby." Christian said with a tremulous voice. Then Christian jumped as her pulse ox monitor went off on a series of loud and persistent beeps. Amelie, still being cradled in Christian's arms, began to cry at the sudden noise.   
  
"We need to get her back into the isolation ward right away!" Dr. Kovac began to push Satine's bed out of the maternity room.   
  
"Dr. Kovac! Dr. Kovac what's happening?" Christian asked.   
  
"Christian, Satine's condition is getting worse. I'm afraid she might not make it." Dr. Kovac left in a hurry taking Satine with him.   
  
Christian's jaw dropped. His head began to spin from all the noise and fast movements around him. The cries of his daughter, Dr. Kovac's voice, the beeping from the monitors all seemed to echo and fade away from him. Christian sat down in a chair, hoping this wave of dizziness would pass him quickly. He closed his eyes and squeezed them shut for a long time. When Christian opened his eyes he was no longer sitting. He looked in his arms for his daughter but she was gone. Looking around, Christian noticed he was back on the streets of Montmatre. Everything was familiar once again. And most importantly Satine was there, with his little girl.   
  
"Christian, are you all right?" Satine asked. "It looked as if you were dreaming or something."   
  
Christian kissed his wife and his daughter. "Oh love, I had this awful dream that you almost died."  
  
***  
  
  
PARIS 1900  
  
  
Christian looked around himself once more and found that they were together in his garret overlooking Le Boulevard de Clichy, the spires of the Sacré-Coeur penetrating the cloudless sky and the red sails of the Moulin Rouge stilled as though they dare not draw attention to the dark underworld of the night on such a beautiful day. Suddenly it seemed to him that the inexplicable shift in time and place was nothing unusual and an indescribable calm settled upon his arm as he gazed through the open window to the sky.  
  
Satine was pacing in front of the window where they had once sat together, though it seemed so long ago, their bodies pressed together as he held her in his arms and murmured lines of poetry into her ear. In Satine's arms she held Amélie, the quiet sounds of her gurgling drawing a smile from his lips.  
  
Christian wandered over to his wife and took her in his arms, peering over her shoulder into the face of their daughter as he slid her hands around her tightly corseted waist.  
  
"Let's leave Paris," Christian murmured, planting a soft kiss upon Satine's neck. "Buy a house in the country, grow old together and watch our children grow up."  
  
She smiled, "With what? You have no money and I don't have a job anymore."  
  
"What about the show?" Christian asked, his confusion evident in his voice.  
  
Satine sighed, "I honestly wonder where your mind is half the time, Christian. The show was cancelled, remember. The Duke withdrew his endorsement and Harold had to sell the theatre."  
  
"Oh, I remember," Christian whispered, not really remembering at all.   
  
"What's the matter, Christian?" Satine asked, turning around and studying Christian's face. "You keep doing this to me."  
  
He didn't say anything for the moment. He tried to mask the confusion that was starting to encroach upon him again. "Oh, I don't know... I'm just tired, I suppose. Having to get up for this little one during the night." He stroked Amélie's cheek and she gurgled and smiled.  
  
Her parents both grinned broadly. Satine sighed, "I know, you've been wonderful, darling. How many more shall we have?"  
  
"At least a dozen," Christian replied, trying to suppress his grin.  
  
Satine's eyes widened fully and then she narrowed them with a coaxing smile, "Are you sure you can manage that?"  
  
"Easily," Christian replied breathlessly. "I always like a challenge."  
  
Satine raised an eyebrow; "I'll hold you to that. How about a demonstration of your skills, just so I can be sure you're not bluffing."  
  
Christian traced a line down her cheek and leaned into kiss her, "Truth, Satine. I'm not bluffing."  
  
Satine suddenly turned her head away from Christian and she passed him the baby. Christian frowned and took Amélie in his arms.  
  
Satine's face was flushed and she started to cough, her body racked with violent tremors. Christian looked on nervously, "What's the matter, darling?"  
  
She waved her hand at him and she took a few deep breaths. In seconds the coughs had died down, and she turned back to Christian, a weak smile upon her blood stained lips.  
  
Christian gazed at the red glaze on her mouth and lent forward, pressing his fingertips to her lips and withdrawing them at once. He stared at the blood on his fingertips and shook his head. "Oh, darling," he breathed.  
  
Satine burst into cascades of hot, salty tears.  
  
Satine cried. She cried very hard. Her eyes were bloodshot and overflowing with tears, dripping down her pink cheeks like raindrops on a windowpane. She grabbed a handkerchief and blew her nose.   
  
"I'm so sorry Christian." Satine said through her sobs. "I should have told you. I'm so sorry."   
  
Christian carefully set Amelie down in her bassinet. "It's consumption isn't it?"   
  
"I didn't tell you but I should have. Oh Christian I wanted to protect you and our baby." Satine placed a hand on Christian's cheek. "Do you forgive me?"   
  
Christian did not know what to say. He felt so many emotions at once and couldn't find any words to tell Satine how he truly felt.   
  
"Everything was going so well." Christian sat down on the windowsill. "I married the love of my life, we had a child together and now it's all gone to hell." He suddenly turned from sadness to anger, and he too, began to release hot salty tears of his own.   
  
"It's not fair!" Christian yelled. "Nothing has ever gone right in my life!"   
  
Satine put a finger to her lips. "Shh, you'll wake Amelie!"   
  
Christian ignored her. "All my life I have struggled to achieve happiness and when I do get even a little bit of it, it all shatters to pieces!"   
  
"Christian Lawrence you should be lucky for what you do have!" Satine said.   
  
"No. My wife is dying. My daughter will be without a mother." Christian ran a hand through his hair and paced the small room so he could stop himself from exploding with anger. "I...I have to go for a while."  
  
Christian left Satine and Amelie alone in the dark garret. Satine started to cry softly, as did Amelie, awoken from her catnap due to her father slamming the door on his way out. Satine reached over for her daughter and kissed her. "Ma cherie, I won't be with you much longer, but your father will and he will take good care of you. Je t'aime."   
  
***  
  
Sometime later Christian returned to his garret. He had spent the night walking the streets of Montmartre thinking of all that had just been laid before him, but not before drowning his sorrows in absinthe at a local bar.   
  
"Royal Canadian blended, the spicy aroma had mended me," mumbled Christian to himself. "Matured for years and imported, into my glass you poured it." Christian stopped in his tracks as a wave of dizziness passed over him from too much alcohol.   
  
When he entered the garret, Christian saw Satine lying in bed. Even on her deathbed, Christian thought she still looked beautiful.   
  
"Satine, I love you. Don't leave me." Christian said. He knelt down beside her and took her hand and kissed it.   
  
"You've been drinking." Satine said, her nose scrunching at the scent.   
  
"I don't know what else to do. Oh love don't go."   
  
Satine coughed and gasped for air. "I love...you."   
  
"No! If you can't stay for me, at least stay for Amelie!" Christian said, feeling a lump in his throat. He swallowed. "I know I acted cross earlier and you have every right to be angry, but Amelie is an innocent child!"   
  
"Take...good care of...her," Satine said as her breaths became shallower.   
  
"Please Satine. Oh God no!" Christian began to cry as Satine took her last few breaths. Satine squeezed his hand. Christian squeezed back and held on until Satine gave up and her grip was loosened from his. Christian kissed Satine on her lips, tasting the salty reminder of the horrible illness that took her life. He held her in his arms and fell asleep with her on the bed.   
  
Christian had rolled off the bed. He was now awake, sitting on the floor, a bottle of absinthe in his hand. He stared at the bassinet across from him where his daughter slept. It was just her and him now. Amelie started to cry. Christian did not move right away, he wasn't even sure if he was hearing her.   
  
Christian picked his weak body up from the floorboards, his head clouded by the excessive quantities of absinthe he had imbibed. He glanced back at the bed, only to find that Satine's body lay there, blood on her open mouth, her eyes shut in permanent sleep. A dull ache pressed against his skull as if it had been placed in clamp. Christian felt the warm sensation of salty tears falling down his cheeks as he walked over to the bassinet.  
  
Amélie was crying, her soft wails filling the small garret and sending sharp bursts of pain through his head. The cries spilled out of the open window and down into the streets of Montmartre, which were heavy with the dark night air.  
  
Christian wiped his cheeks with the back of his hand and fixed his gaze on their daughter. He reached down and picked Amélie up, holding her close to his chest and gently rocking her in his arms.  
  
"Shh, shh," Christian whispered past the lump in his throat. "Daddy's here, it's okay."  
  
Christian glanced at Satine's still figure and felt his eyes sting. He caught sight of Amélie's small face and he opened his mouth to sing softly. "Baby love, my baby love..."  
  
She stopped crying, her small hand reaching up to touch her father's cheek. Christian could not hold back the grief and despair any longer and he felt tears run down his face and from his open mouth, not song but soft guttural moans flowed forth.  
  
He closed his eyes and pressed Amélie closer to his chest, wanting to keep the part of Satine in their child as close to him as possible. Suddenly, she started crying again and Christian opened his eyes, the air burning them as he gazed down into his child's face.  
  
"Sorry, I'm sorry," he murmured. He sniffed and blinked away his hot tears. "What are we going to do without her. You'll have no Mummy. And God knows I won't be much of a father. Just you and me..." He touched her cheek. "Oh you're cold... here," he wrapped her in Satine's shawl.   
  
Suddenly Amélie stopped crying and Christian saw her smiling at him. "You like playing dress-up, Amélie?" He smiled slightly by impulse, feeling a faint sense of joy at his daughter's toothless smile whilst he felt as though his grief were eating him alive. Amélie let out a little yawn.  
  
"You're tired, aren't you?" Christian whispered, feeling very drowsy at the very mention of sleep. His limbs were heavy and the room swam before his eyes like a fauvist painting. "Let's go to bed then, Mummy's already there and we can all get in together and keep warm, see."  
  
Christian laid down on the bed and placed Amélie between him and her mother. Satine looked as though she were in deep sleep, her bloodied lips half parted, waiting for that first sweet kiss that would resurrect his Sleeping Beauty. Christian curled up beside them, shivering in his shirtsleeves. He pressed his cheek against the pillow, some of Satine's auburn hair spilling across the linen so that it touched his skin.   
  
He could feel his eyelids grow heavy, but he knew that the only sleep he would be rewarded with would be a fitful one of cold sweats and suicidal panic. Beside the bed on a table stood a bottle of sleeping draught, prescribed to him after the opening night of Spectacular! Spectacular! by the doctor. He was exhausted, and the temptation of a night of deep, undisturbed sleep drew him to the small blue bottle like a fly to honey. Christian barely had enough strength to put the bottle to his lips.   
  
He let the empty vial fall from his fingers, rolling onto the floor and hitting the empty absinthe bottles with an empty sound. Papers of printed prose flew off his small desk by the window as the wind blew in the night air and the sounds of night time Montmartre as Christian rolled back onto his side and took his daughter into his arms, the phantom of the child he never fathered laying with a constant pressure against his chest as he shifted into the limp arms of Satine, her misty figure barely resting on the linen. Christian closed his eyes, the sleeping draught making him forget the sights of the Moulin Rouge, whose sails were stilled and whose stage was still set for a second performance of Spectacular! Spectacular! which would never be played out.  
  
He felt his heart rate slow and the blood pounding in his head and ears ceased to be so loud, the absinthe and the medicine playing their part in a terminal tango. Christian forgot that the only truth in his hallucinations was their demonstration of his dependence on drink, and he believed that the gentle pressure about his body were the arms and body of his wife and child though he lay alone in his garret, the pages of his and Satine's story floating about the empty bottles of alcohol.  
  
Christian succumbed to a temptation more deadly and enticing than the Green Fairy and felt his breath escape his chest, his mind lost many months ago and his body now obeying the firm command of narcotics, as they gave him peace and stole his breath.  
  
  
The End  
  
  
  
  
Songs Used:  
  
Christian's Lonely Room  
1) Alcohol - Barenaked Ladies  
  
At the Admin Desk  
2) (I Would Do) Anything for Love - Meatloaf  
3) Why Can't You Behave - Cole Porter (from 'Kiss Me, Kate')  
4) Girls Just Wanna Have Fun - Cyndi Lauper  
5) I Wanna Be Loved By You - Marilyn Monroe  
  
In the Examination Room  
6) Chestnuts Roasting Over an Open Fire  
7) Baby it's Cold Outside  
  
Satine is to be Isolated  
1) Don't Leave Me This Way - Thelma  
2) Come What May - MR  
3) So In Love - Cole Porter (from 'Kiss Me Kate')  
4) Can't Take My Eyes Off You - Andy Williams  
5) Your Song - Elton John  
6) Hey Baby - No Doubt  
  
Christian Gets the Wrong Impression  
1) Don't be Stupid (You Know I Love You) - S. Twain & RJ Lange  
2) Don't Speak - G. Stefani  
3) I'm Holding on to Love to Save My Life - S Twain & RJ Lange  
4) I Can't Live (If Living is Without You) - ?  
5) Come What May - MR  
6) All You Need is Love - J. Lennon & P McCartney  
7) Baby Come Back - Soul Decision  
  
Return to the Garret  
1) Sober - Muse  
2) Baby Love - Dina Ross & The Supremes 


End file.
